BEGIN:VCALENDAR VERSION:2.0 PRODID:-//The Open Road: a learning community - ECPv6.15.3//NONSGML v1.0//EN CALSCALE:GREGORIAN METHOD:PUBLISH X-ORIGINAL-URL:https://openroadpdx.com X-WR-CALDESC:Events for The Open Road: a learning community REFRESH-INTERVAL;VALUE=DURATION:PT1H X-Robots-Tag:noindex X-PUBLISHED-TTL:PT1H BEGIN:VTIMEZONE TZID:America/Los_Angeles BEGIN:DAYLIGHT TZOFFSETFROM:-0800 TZOFFSETTO:-0700 TZNAME:PDT DTSTART:20210314T100000 END:DAYLIGHT BEGIN:STANDARD TZOFFSETFROM:-0700 TZOFFSETTO:-0800 TZNAME:PST DTSTART:20211107T090000 END:STANDARD END:VTIMEZONE BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20211113T190000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20211113T210000 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20211104T004829Z LAST-MODIFIED:20211113T212142Z UID:2447-1636830000-1636837200@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Otherworlds and Underworlds: Will Hornyak Storytelling Nov 13 DESCRIPTION:Otherworlds and Underworlds  \n  \nNovember 13th  \nIn honor of the Day of the Dead and the Celtic New Year of Samhain\, storyteller William Kennedy Hornyak weaves Irish\, Greek\, Mexican and Brazilian myths\, poems and tales into harrowing descents and festive romps through the legendary landscapes of death and rebirth alongside Coyote\, Orpheus\, Yemanja and Finn Mac Cool.   \nFor audiences 14 and over.  \n  \n  \nSaturday November 13  7:00 p.m. Pacific STANDARD TIME \nWe will open the waiting room @ 20 minutes prior to each show \nZoom Link:   \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/81949258717?pwd=S2lnRkdqemxncjc3bkg4K0FFOWpuQT09 \n  \nMeeting ID: 875 6423 8789 \nPasscode: 579723 \nCost: There are no tickets or admission costs but donations of gold bullion\, mining claims\, motorcycle parts\, PayPal funds(hornyak.will@gmail.com) or checks are appreciated: Will Hornyak 11375 SE 33rd Ave. Milwaukie\, OR  97222 \n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/otherworlds-and-underworlds-will-hornyak-storytelling-nov-5-6-7-13/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20211111 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211125 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20211111T172737Z LAST-MODIFIED:20230921T172258Z UID:2454-1636588800-1637798399@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 11/11/21 DESCRIPTION:  \n \n \n \nFour bodhisattvas!: Brenda Erickson\, Dick Willis\, Jude Russell & Jack Baird \n  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nNovember 11\, 2021 \n  \nBeginning My Studies \n  \nBeginning my studies the first step pleas’d me so much\, \nThe mere fact consciousness\, these forms\, the power of motion\, \nThe least insect or animal\, the senses\, eyesight\, love\, \nThe first step I say awed me and pleas’d me so much\, \nI have hardly gone and hardly wish’d to go any farther\, \nBut stop and loiter all the time to sing it in ecstatic songs. \n  \n—Walt Whitman \n  \n  \nMy Recipe for Living a Life Rich in Meaning \n  \nWhat I would like to do in this essay is to provide some clues as to how to find your way to the Golden World\, and live there. This is my recipe. You have to create your own. That’s part of the fun. Make the most of the fact that there has never been and will never be another you.  \n  \nTo live a life rich in meaning\, the first thing is to have that as an aspiration. A much more common goal in our society is simply to get rich. Rich in money and rich in meaning are not the same thing. My basic idea is: Since life is short and each day is precious\, I want to BLESS THIS DAY.  \n  \nThere is not some other day to be happy. Today is the day. \n  \nSome of the ingredients that make my life rich in meaning include: love\, silence\, books\, friends\, creativity\, gratitude and being helpful to others. \n  \nWe all need to love and be loved. One of my constant aspirations is to become a more loving person. We learn to love by loving and being loved. I have the extreme good fortune to be living with Nancy\, who loves me and who I love. We’ve been living together for 15 years. We’re nuts about each other. Every day together is a good day.  \n  \nNancy and I got together when I was 55 years old. Since I was single at the time\, it means that all of my previous efforts to be in a loving relationship had not worked out\, and yet I learned a lot about loving from each of them. \n  \nThere is also Big Love—unconditional love for everyone and everything. Being in a loving relationship is one aspect of living in love. It nurtures and strengthens the bigger project of loving everyone\, of loving life. I don’t know exactly how or why it worked out this way\, but having a three-hour meaning-of-life dialogue every week for many years with a dozen or more friends in prison did a lot to open my heart. It made me softer. I cry more than most men do. In those prison circles\, we opened ourselves to each other. This gave everyone in the circle many blessings. We humans need each other more than we know. Our potential for loving has no limit. \n  \nPeace is something that is not given much attention in our society. By “peace” I mean here “inner peace”—what the Bible calls “the peace which passeth understanding.” My introduction to peace as a value to aspire to came from Indian yogis. First from books by J. Krishnamurti and Paramanhansa Yogananda\, then from spending time with two teachers I had when I was in my twenties\, Nataraja Guru and Nitya Chaitanya Yati. \n  \nMeditation and mindfulness are essential ingredients in my recipe for living a life rich in meaning—the most essential. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without them. More miserable\, for sure. They provide the foundation for whatever peace and love and happiness and freedom I have. It feels to me like I have a lot of those things. Every day of my life is filled with blessings. As I look around\, everything appears miraculous to me. I am thankful for my human life on earth. \n  \nMy Paradise is a library. I live surrounded by books. Each one is a world. Some of the authors and even some of the fictional characters are among my closest friends. I love Walt Whitman and Alice\, who has adventures in Wonderland and through the Looking-Glass. I hated school. As soon as I dropped out of college\, I began to read whatever I wanted to. I read widely\, going from subject to subject and author to author as the mood strikes me. I get endless pleasure from this. As for living a life rich in meaning\, there is no building more packed with meaning\, from floor to ceiling\, than a library. My own library contains a lot of books by people who are especially good on the subject of living a meaningful life. Some of my favorites\, to whom\, I return again and again\, include: Thich Nhat Hanh\, Susan Griffin\, Joseph Campbell\, Wendell Berry\, Walt Whitman\, J. Krishnamurti\, Alan Watts\, Hafiz\, William Shakespeare\, Ramana Maharshi\, Shunryu Suzuki\, Lao Tzu\, Thomas Traherne\, Ralph Waldo Emerson and Han Shan. It’s a much longer list\, but these are some of the people whose writings most reliably enrich my life. \n  \nFriends enrich my life. If I look at my life\, it appears that my vocation is gathering people together. For many years\, I would make waffles at my house (or apartment) every Sunday and have somewhere around 2o people come over. For thirteen years I had a weekly dialogue group at a prison with around 16 people sitting in a circle and talking about—guess what!—how to live a life rich in meaning. The original title of the dialogue group was: The Stories We Tell Ourselves: How Our Thinking Shapes Our Lives. I love this kind of deep dialogue. I like to get together with friends for coffee or tea—often one-on-one—and talk about everything under the sun\, but especially about what is most important\, or essential\, or meaningful to us in that moment. During the current pandemic\, when it has been harder to get together with others\, I’ve done a lot of videoconferencing on Zoom. \n  \nThere are well-worn roads of religious belief and practice that one might go down\, but the only way I know through first-hand experience\, is to create your own path by following your heart’s desire. I suspect that even if one chooses one of those well-travelled roads\, each person must find their own unique way of knowing\, believing and practicing that tradition. \n  \nIn addition to religious belief and practice\, some people live lives rich in meaning by devoting themselves to Art: theater\, music\, poetry\, dance\, painting—not to mention other arts\, like gardening\, cooking\, woodworking\, knitting\, filmmaking\, et cetera. My friend Abe goes hiking\, skiing and camping in the Montana wilderness. He takes beautiful photos of some of the things he sees. He reports that his journeys give him great joy. \n  \nCreativity enriches our lives in mysterious ways. Theater is a realm in which I have had many adventures\, as an actor and director. I haven’t given myself fully to an art form in the way that some of my art heroes have: Bill T. Jones\, Ushio Amagatsu\, Peter Schumann\, Wes Anderson\, Tom Waits\, Susan Griffin\, Rick Bartow—to name a few. One of my current role models is the fictional character Ted Lasso. I want to be more like him! \n  \nI’ve done some writing\, and would like to do more. I’ve written some essays\, poems\, short stories and theater pieces. I’ve kept a journal for fifty years. The journal has helped me to better understand my life journey. I also use it as a tool to help me find my way to the Golden World every morning. \n  \nHelping others is another thing that enriches our life and gives meaning to it. Life is short. It often seems to me that the world’s problems are large\, I am puny\, and whatever I do won’t make much of a difference in the Big Picture. One of the things I tell myself when I’m having those thoughts\, is that one kind act makes a whole life worthwhile. Everyone enjoys being helpful\, when an opportunity arises. I know some people who don’t wait—they are always finding ways to help someone. I’m thinking of Brenda Erickson\, Dick Willis\, Jude Russell and Jack Baird. Bodhisattvas all! \n  \nFollowing your heart’s desire may sound selfish\, but it’s important to distinguish between selfishness and self-care. I have often reminded my friends in prison that self-care is Job One. I remind them of this when they get out of prison\, for there are many challenges outside prison walls as well. Because our life is short and each day is precious\, we should be able to bless each day—to be thankful that we have a human life on earth. That’s another not-so-secret ingredient in my recipe for living a life rich in meaning: gratitude. At the most basic level\, the difference between complaining and giving thanks is the difference between Hell and Heaven. \n  \nWhich brings me to another important thing that I wanted to include in my recipe—coming to understand that every day\, from moment to moment\, we create the world in which we live. The stories we tell ourselves are our world. It’s important to distinguish between the world and my world\, as Wittgenstein pointed out long ago. The world includes everything that has ever happened\, and everything that is happening right now. It is beyond our ken\, not only because it is so vast\, but because it is changing from moment to moment. My world is the world as I experience it and understand it and know it and feel it\, from moment to moment. At times\, I may feel powerless to change the world\, but I can be sovereign of my inner world and how I process my experience. A happy person lives in a friendly world. An angry person lives in a world full of assholes. A person who lives in love\, lives in love. \n  \nThis is not to deny or minimize\, even for a moment\, the vast amount of injustice and suffering that is always going on in the world. Right now\, there are many places in our world where food is scarce and machine guns are plentiful. This is not acceptable\, since all children are our children. Each of us must do what we can to make this world a better place for all our human\, animal and plant friends\, for all the rivers and forests and ecologies of every kind.  \n  \nPeace and love and joy and freedom and gratitude and beauty and wisdom are all intrinsically good for us. Where self-care comes in is by nurturing these qualities in ourselves\, so that we can bring them to every encounter we have with each other\, with all beings and with our Mother Earth. \n  \nWell\, that’s about what I’ve got this morning as far as a recipe goes for living a life rich in meaning. I have a very limited repertoire. Apologies to pen pals\, readers of this journal\, and other friends who have heard me say all this before. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-11-11-21/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/0-11-2.jpeg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20211031 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211114 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20211028T190945Z LAST-MODIFIED:20211103T015210Z UID:2431-1635638400-1636847999@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous! 10/31/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nBeloved Bibliophiles \n  \n(Apologies Everyone. I’m having problems with the formatting on this page. Everything below is squashed together. I’ll see if some tech support people can help me get this fixed soon.) \n  \nJude recommended NATURE as the topic Bibliophiles Unanimous! on Sunday\, October 31st. Here’s her recap\, with a few things added by Johnny at the end: \n  \n  \n\n\nHi Johnny\,\n\n\n\nHere are some notes on our very fun BiblioUn. yesterday:\n\n\n\nFirst of all\, the Japanese term I couldn’t dredge up was ‘shinrin yoku\,’ or ‘forest bathing.’ My friend\, Yasuko\, and I are glad that our belief that ‘bathing in nature’ is actually beneficial is now validated by the Japanese term\, ‘shinrin yoku.’ It means ‘making contact with and taking in the atmosphere of the forest\,’ and it is something the Japanese take seriously (as do I!). And remember I said that this not-so-common term and its meaning were inscribed on a large reader board at the not-so-prominent Little Zigzag Falls near Zigzag and Government Camp\, OR. What are the chances of that?!?!\n\n\n\nWhew!  one or two sentence summary of the books I mentioned:\n\n\n\nThe Overstory – Richard Powers – A novel with 9 main characters about our treatment of and relationship with the environment\, specifically trees\, forests…Nine very different characters and nine very different stories\, but all pulled together in the end.\n\n\n\nUnderland– Robert MacFarlane – Nonfiction telling of explorations under the earth’s surface. MacFarlane studies the fungi that create a cooperative system below forest floors\, with the plant scientist\, Merlin Sheldrake. (I had totally forgotten his romp with Sheldrake the whole time I was later reading Entangled Life by..Merlin Sheldrake!) The book also looks at burial and darkness and deep time…\n\n\n\nThe Lost Words-Robert MacFarlane – Beautiful art in a large book depicting one hundred words in middle schoolers’ dictionaries that have been deemed obsolescent and have been replaced\, mostly by computer related terms (byte\, etc.). Because most children no longer get out in nature much anymore (hence the nauseating term ‘Nature Deficit Disorder’)\, most or all of the words are related to nature: wren\, bramble\, dandelion\, weasel\, etc. MacFarlane writes a poem for each lost word\, and each is accompanied by a gorgeous watercolor.\n\n\n\nThe Invention of Nature – Andrea Wulf – Story of Alexander von Humboldt\, early to mid-19th century Prussian explorer and naturalist who understood nature as an interconnected global force. He discovered the similarities in climate zones across the world at different elevations and different latitudes\, and also predicted human-caused climate change.\n\n\n\nThe Brother Gardeners – Andrea Wulf – In the 18th century\, wealthy estate owners in England sought to expand their properties from the rigid\, formal privet/lawn/columnar conifer forms to include exotic\, floriferous plants from around the world. Captain Cook\, Captain Bligh\,Erasmus Darwin (grandad of Chuck)\, Benjamin Franklin and others figure into this plant frenzy.\n\n\n\nThe Wild Trees – Richard Preston – About the scaling and mapping of the tallest trees in the world (350′-400′!) \, found in the California Redwoods. The discovery of another plant world\, hundreds of feet up in the trees\, figures into this; compacted soil\, ferns\, moss\, huckleberry bushes\, even crustaceans live and thrive in this ‘deep canopy.’ You can walk around up there. Wow!\n\n\n\nBraiding Sweetgrass – Robin Wall Kimmerer – Author is a professor of botany and of Potawatomi heritage. She ‘braids’ together indigenous wisdom and scientific knowledge and gives equal importance to each. She convinced me.\n\n\n\n\nThe Botany of Desire – Michael Pollan – Author picks four plants (potato\, marijuana\, tulip and apple) to show how plants create desire in humans\, thereby assuring (in very different ways) their (continued) survival. The potato (control)\, marijuana (intoxication)\, tulip (beauty)\, and apple (sweetness). He posits that plants control us  rather than us controlling plants.\n\n\n\nThanks for yesterday and all other Biblio days!\n\n\n\n\n\nJude\n\n\n\n\nJude also held up a copy of The Entangled Web by Merlin Sheldrake.\n\n\n\nMartha talked about A World on the Wingby Scott Weidensaul.\n\n\n\nJohnny Scharbach spoke of The Secret Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben and mentioned  Chris Maser\, who wrote many books\, including Forest Primeval. He also talked about a book he’s reading titled The Web of Meaning.\n\n\n\nKatie told us a little about what her son Abel and his wife Tao are doing. They are both ecologists\, and are currently helping teach a Permaculture course through Oregon State University. Katie: please remind me what books you talked about.\n\n\n\nTodd talked about the New England Transcendentalists and read this poem that he wrote:\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  \nHalf Dome\, Autumn \n  \nI can never get over the notion \nthat fall trees are old ladies and gents \nstrutting across the green: \nladies\, in their elaborate turn-of-the-century hats \nfloppy brims and trailing dresses \nmen\, all spiffy in top hats and spats \npin-striped pants\, tails lopping in the breeze. \n  \nAll through the winter \nthey reach into bare sky \ntheir feathers banished by stripping winds; \nstopped like dancers on a music box. \nRain lashes their trunks black \nthen quietly encases them in silver and glass. \n  \nBut suddenly\, the miracle of spring. \nTheir glass shells shatter to the ground. \nGreen emerges and reaches from their bodies. \nAll summer it reaches out to the edge of shadow. \n\n  \nBut\, like I say\, \n\nit’s in the fall these ladies and gents start their promenade \nand they keep walking right up to the last feather. \n\n  \n–Todd Oleson \n  \n\n\n\n\nI mentioned a couple books by David Abram: The Spell of the Sensuous & Becoming Animal. And a couple films: “Fantastic Fungi” and “Winged Migration.”\n\n\n\n\n\n\npeace & love\n\n\n\n\nJohnny\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-10-31-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20211028 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211111 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20211028T165259Z LAST-MODIFIED:20211028T184339Z UID:2421-1635379200-1636588799@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 10/28/21 DESCRIPTION:  \n \nphotos by Kim Stafford \n  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \n  \nOctober 28\, 2021 \n  \n  \nPoems from the past five days…where do they come from? \n  \nby Kim Stafford \n  \nFor some years now\, I’ve started each day with a walk before dawn\, then sitting with my breath\, then coffee\, then something like a poem—that is\, an exploratory utterance rising from recent experience in the world\, and in thought.  \n     For what it’s worth\, in response to Johnny’s invitation\, here are the most recent five adventures into my realm of scribbling… \n  \n  \n16 October \n  \nAt the coast for my birthday\, we went to the turnout south from Depot Bay to watch a whale out beyond the breakers breach and roll. My poem the next day tried to honor this encounter. As often happens\, though\, I got a little preachy toward the end\, with my “So we must…” conclusion. This is my failing: loving Earth\, hoping for the future\, seeking to honor the miracles that come tug our sleeves… \n  \n  \n  At Rocky Creek We Watch the Whale \n  \nOut beyond the heave and shattered roll of waves \nwe see the puff\, the plume\, breath burst\, the back’s \ndark gleam sliding down into the massive deep. \n  \nThat’s about how much we know of everything— \ndreams of wheeling birds\, the swell and fade of seasons— \na glimpse gone down\, a gasp\, and the rest is guessing. \n  \nPrecious Earth\, leviathan—the visible we see\, and say \nwe know\, while the hidden will be what we need. \n  \n  \n  \n17 October \n  \nAt the coast\, we rose at 5a.m. for low tide to gather mussels from wave-pummeled rocks—the errand of a fool\, or in our case\, the dedicated gourmand. While wrestling in the dark with waves to our knees\, I found myself wondering if there might be a phrase in French to describe a gourmet so dedicated\, no danger was too great in the pursuit of fine flavor. Thus\, this adventure came to the page… \n  \n  \nCampagne Extrême du Gourmet \n  \nAt the darkest episode of night \nwe strode by wave-bashed rocks \nin thunder din of the rising tide \nto address the wall of blue shell \nmussels pried by headlamp flicker \ninto the pail for our planned repast \nwith butter\, lemon\, and white wine\,  \nas the sea surge wrapped our knees \nuntil we shuddered as the dark tug  \nand thrash from out beyond our faint  \nperiphery demanded utter surrender  \nto be swept\, to be stumbled into ocean’s  \nhungry pot\, to be stirred into torn asunder\,  \nto be atomized\, to be distilled  \ninto the flavor salt. \n  \n  \n  \n18 October \n  \nOur daughter knows the sommelière at a local winery\, and he generously invited us to come sip. By the third vintage I was feeling no pain\, and the next morning composed a blessing in his honor and sent it off… \n  \n  \n      A Sip Serene \n  \nUp from stone and earth \nby the vine-root clench \ndrought-flavored rain \nrises into stem\, leaf\, bud\, \nand tendril to spangle in sun \nalong the row hung heavy \nwith fisted clusters to be \ncrushed\, then cherished \ninto wine\, the whole hill \nshimmered in this scent \nthat fills the mind\, and \nthen this sip of honor. \n  \n  \n  \n19 October \n  \nThis really big crow landed on the lintel above our garden gate\, and started strutting back and forth. I enjoyed the spectacle…and then next morning\, writing\, started by trying to describe his imperious presence. But once I had that\, I thought\, “That’s cool\, but so what?” I realized he reminded me of certain Type-A males who lord it over the rest of us (Jeff B.\, Elon M.\, Mark Z.)\, and so they got into the opening lines… \n  \n  \n                         King Crow \nWhen some fat cat\, filthy rich\, swaggers  \nand proclaims—you know\, the ones with \nyachts\, trophy homes\, and bizarre opinions\,  \nthe ones who clearly never learned to practice  \nbasic human etiquette—I see our king crow\,  \nthe heavy one swooping low to settle and command  \nthe lintel board above the gate\, to strut and brag\,  \nhis bead black eyes glinting dire fire\, his seesaw  \nrocking tossing shouts to the sky\, flexing his sheen  \nof rainbow black\, burning the air with sheer bravado  \nas he disdains his craven clan below\, all small crows  \nbowing and scraping\, thrusting their beaks for pickings. \n  \nAbove it all\, his highness pivots\, shrugs\, and shouts:  \nShow me something worth my time—then it’s mine. \n  \n  \n  \n20 October \n  \nI’ve been going through old letters\, and as I work my way back into the 1970s I come to the time I was preparing\, foolishly\, to become a scholar. I compiled vast bibliographies\, and worked my way through a slew of books chosen—not because they were good\, but because they were essential to my chosen field of study. Then I remembered the scholarly exercise of the “Abstract\,” that paragraph at the head of a formal article\, distilling the import of what was to follow. Then out of nowhere—my favorite source for writing—I thought of the phrase “It takes one to know one…\,” and I started wondering who first said that…and soon I was back to our primitive forebears. Then I started having fun… \n  \n  \nInnocent Words of Ancient Import \nby Hector Persimian\, Ph.D.\, DMD\, ABC\, DVD \n  \nAbstract: This paper charts new ground in phase archeology—as a complement to genetic investigations into the origin of human species—through an examination of indicator phrases like “you scratch my back\, I scratch yours\,” a clear reference to primordial grooming rituals (Baker\, 1987); “takes one to know one\,” a key to solidarity among rival Homo dejectus hunting bands (Spice\, 1993); and “one may smile and smile and yet may be a villain\,” a phrase long attributed to a particular writer\, but clearly originating in the confrontational grin display of our simian forebears (Jekyll and Hyde\, 2001). We will conclude with a close study of the phrase “Yes and no\,” a tantalizing remnant of our ancestors’ philosophical struggle with their existential conundrum: should we come down from the trees? \n  \n  \n  \n21 October \n  \nYesterday\, our son told us of the disastrous new computer system at work\, causing all kinds of disruption and despair. On my morning walk\, I got to thinking about other kinds of dysfunction. Both Capitalism and the avoidance of Climate Crisis came to mind. In my walking meditation\, the words “glitch” and “triage’ came to mind\, and I had to write the poem to find out what these two words might want to say to one another. \n  \n  \n       Remedy for Glitch \nWhen things go crazy haywire— \ncomputer crash\, capitalism cheats\, oil  \nburns us all—it’s time for triage. So\, \n  \nchoose one: (1) How did this happen?… \nor (2) Whose fault is this?…or \n(3) What’s to be done? \n  \nScreen in my face\, money in hand\, \nand a hard look at my habits: \nreboot…learn thrift…simplify. \n  \n  \n  \nI can make no claim for the value\, the “success\,” of these humble poems. But I do believe in the practice of making them. By sitting each morning with my thoughts\, wonderings\, intuitions\, struggles\, and obsessions\, I write in order to honor our perennial opportunity when faced with trouble: There might be another way. \n  \n—Kim Stafford URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-10-28-21/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/0-36.jpeg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20211015 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211115 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20211019T154303Z LAST-MODIFIED:20211130T002242Z UID:2412-1634256000-1636934399@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue 10/15/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \n  October 15\, 2021 \n  \nMeditation is Not Solemn #291 \n  \n“Meditation is to be aware of what is going on—- in our body\, in our feelings\, in our mind\, and in the world. Each day\, nine thousand children die of hunger. The superpowers have more than enough nuclear warheads to destroy our planet many times. Yet the sunrise is beautiful\, and the rose that bloomed this morning along the wall is a miracle. Life is both dreadful and wonderful. To practice meditation is to be in touch with both aspects. Please do not think we must be solemn in order to meditate. In fact\, to meditate well\, we have to smile a lot.” –Thich Nhat Hanh\, from Your True Home \n  \nAnd life is not solemn—-at least not all the time. Admittedly\, I spend a fair amount of time worrying about the world—pandemic\, the Taliban\, voter suppression\, Texas\, climate\, wildfire smoke…the neighbors’ barking dogs… \n  \nBut invariably I get caught\, snagged\, by beauty: \n  \nMy dog’s little fur body\, impossibly soft and sweet-smelling. \nThe bouquet of sweet peas\, smelling like my dear grandmother’s garden. \nThe moon gleaming in the black sky. \nErik Satie’s\, Gymnopédie floating up from downstairs. \nGarden tomatoes and golden raspberries heavy on their vines\, red and gold. \n  \nAnd that’s all within a 100’ radius! And all right now\, at this moment! Just think of what’s to come—fall leaves! snow on the mountain! pumpkin pie! \n  \nBeauty must trump pain\, mustn’t it? I believe so. In meditation some of all these aspects of life\, good and bad\, float in and out\, up and down. Just let them be. But beauty rises to the top. \n  \n—Jude Russell  (September 15) \n* \n  \n(Here are some excerpts from Michel’s meditation journal. The numbers refer to meditations from Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh.) \n  \nSeptember 2\, 2021  #171 PRECIOUS GIFTS \n  \nBeing fully present: there was nothing I wanted more\, as a child\, from my father\, but it wasn’t until I became an adult that I learned the language to identify my need. Now\, I’m confined in a box and I always wonder: when will I lose him? I’m scheduled to be released when he is 102⅔…. \n  \nI can do something for myself now—breathe\, and learn to do what he didn’t know then….I can continue to practice the gift of being fully present whenever I get time with others: parents by phone\, or friends in person. \n  \nIt’s odd that as humans we forget how much we value and cherish someone until they are nearly gone. A rare exception\, which I would not advise anyone to pursue\, is the “near-death experience.” Yet\, it is after these moments of being shook awake from our casual stupor in life that\, for many of us\, we finally begin to give our full attention—at least for a while. \n  \nYet\, all it requires of us to give “precious gifts” is to breathe on purpose\, mindfully aware of each passing moment while we are in it. There’s nothing more to do. There’s nothing complicated about breathing. It can help one to practice this skill\, the mindful part at least\, so when the “important” moments do arrive I can be present and aware. They’re all important when we pay attention to them. I just hope that paying attention can help recall the sensation of a past moment with my dad\, mother\, uncle\, or dear friends—when all are gone from my now. It can be nice to visit a moment or two\, before the mind goes. \n  \n(I’m including the next meditation Michel talks about\, because it’s short and sweet.) \n  \n# 175  Let Your Heart Bloom \n  \nIn the Springtime\, thousands of different kinds of flowers bloom. Your heart can also bloom. You can let your heart open up to the world. Love is possible—do not be afraid of it. Love is indispensable to life\, and if in the past you have suffered because of love\, you can learn how to love again.     —Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \nSeptember 22\, 2021  #175 LET YOUR HEART BLOOM \n  \nThis is a challenging proposition in this setting—not impossible\, just a challenge. So maybe the challenge becomes cultivating a safe haven—a garden of sorts. It is still many weeks away—seemingly an eternity—but\, eventually\, the few of us still remaining from Theatre and Dialogue groups will be allowed to assemble once again as a community of friends I rarely\, if ever\, see as I go about my cyclical movements. Once in a while I do see an old friend; we greet and pass along\, as required. It’s pleasing to have those moments. I doubt things are any easier in the “free world.” So\, until we can once again convene in our little haven at TRCI together\, we’ll need to be “open”—letting our hearts bloom where we are—so when we do meet an old friend\, or gather as a group\, we can be ready with a heart open to the possibility of love\, when ever and where ever it may happen upon us. I think I like this idea: being ready for life wherever it may happen.  \n  \nSeptember 30\, 2021  #176 TRAINING FOR HAPPINESS \n  \nThis sounds like a fun training! Happiness is something I’ve learned\, slowly\, to be (mostly) a choice. At first the struggle was to identify when I was happy. It was a tough time for me and this seems to be over-simplified. Another truth about happiness I learned: it’s not dependent on anything or anyone outside of me. Happiness\, (like love)\, when dependent on external causes will cease when the causes evaporate—they always do….I’ve also learned that a happy-sad balance exists along a continuum; also\, that without other “negative” (so-called) emotions the enjoyment of happiness is less\, because of lack of contrast. \n  \n(You may also find value at PositivePsychology.com. It is relevant and related. (M.D.)) \n  \nOnce again\, I suspect\, this training brings me back to recall that I will be of more constant states when I resume deliberate\, daily breathing practices—meditation…. Happiness\, as a practice\, is going to require some practice from me\, if for no other reason than that I will know I’m happy when it happens! This sounds really silly to my mind’s ear\, but I think the breathing practice and\, possibly\, a focus on things I am happy about or happy to see and do. Maybe others have ideas for how to “TRAIN FOR HAPPINESS.” It could be a great value to those of us struggling with finding it. How do you TRAIN FOR HAPPINESS? Do you just prepare to “be” happy? Or is there a deliberate mantra or slogan you practice with? How does one TRAIN FOR HAPPINESS? I’d like to know. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \n(Michael’s last question is a good one to ponder. John Paisley once asked some of his friends to write about happiness. I wrote the poem “Eudæmanology.” It’s not the final or definitive word on the subject\, but might (I hope) provide some clues for our ongoing quest. (J.S.)) \n  \nEudæmonology*  \n  \nwell\, right off I’d better say  \nhappiness is an art\, not a science  \n  \nit helps if you start out deliriously happy  \nsome kids hesitate  \nothers run right at life\, full-speed\, with wide-open arms  \nif they trip and fall flat on their face  \nthey get up and keep charging  \n  \nif you weren’t one of those kids  \nI don’t know what to tell you  \nmaybe you’ll always hesitate  \n  \nand if you were one of those wildly happy ones  \nyou already know the secret  \nlearned it without being taught  \nknew it before you knew you knew it  \nno anamnesis required  \nbecause you never forgot who you are  \n  \nof course between then and now something could have happened  \nsomething relentless like family\, school\, television\, job  \nduties\, obligations\, commitments\, tragedies even  \nthe car accident\, the cancer  \n  \nthere are parts of the world—big parts—where tragedy is the dirty air you can’t avoid breathing \nplaces where food is scarce and machine guns are plentiful  \nif you don’t live in one of those places you’re damn lucky  \n  \nso\, the conclusion so far seems to be that happiness is a matter of luck  \n  \nbut there’s more to it  \n  \nwhere I live many young women could easily go to the store and get food  \nbut instead they get so thin they look scary  \n  \num\, so the question is: what is required for happiness?  \nwell\, it starts with the basics: food\, shelter\, clean water to drink  \nthen\, other stuff comes into it: love\, affection\, friendship  \n  \nand the art of not making yourself miserable  \n  \nthe Buddha said craving is the source of suffering  \nand cessation of craving is liberation  \n  \nbear that in mind  \n  \nI think a big problem is that people forget that thoughts are just thoughts  \nit’s as if all the ideas\, opinions\, beliefs they have accumulated are the world in which they live  \nrather than the filter through which they see the world  \n  \nso\, the secret of happiness?  \nmaybe something like this…  \nseeing through the spell of thought and language  \ncoming again and again  \nwide awake  \nto the silence  \nthat knows  \nnothing  \n  \n* A neglected branch of Philosophy\, the study of happiness.  \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nWeary of those who come with words\, words but no language\, \nI make my way to the snow-covered island. \nThe untamed has no words. \nIts blank pages spread out in all directions. \nI come across the tracks of some deer in the snow— \nLanguage\, but no words. \n  \n—Tomas Tranströmer   (March\, 1979)\, from Bill Faricy \n* \n  \n#3  Miracles \n  \nLife and all that it is \, is a miracle. Our very decision to take a path can be a miracle\, or it could be a curse\, but even a curse could be a miracle. So many of life’s mishaps or follies turn out to be miracles in disguise. A good one to consider is Prometheus’ plight: he bequeathed the fire of the gods to man. Man got fire and the big bird got his liver for a meal every day. Prometheus will never die. There are three miracles in that story. \n  \nThose of us within the walls of a prison can choose to be miracles to those we love and for those who are lost—because they need love\, too. We can\, with a full heart of humbleness\, help them to find their path. I ask many the same question that a great man once asked me when I needed it most: “Who are you\, really?” \n  \nMost people want to do good and be good and I’ve noticed that most just want to live a simple life—a job\, wife\, home\, car\, etc.—to accomplish that\, to them would be a miracle. To walk away from the life that put us in prison and reform ourselves is a miracle. To say “no” to addiction and “yes” to life is a miracle. \n  \nSo\, I call you to be the miracle for yourself and then look to your left and to your right and tell each person that they are a miracle too. Hug\, touch\, laugh\, glow in the light of inner love you have. Radiate the light of goodness inside\, for that is the spark that is a beacon to all who need a focal point to see that the miracle of change is real. \n  \n—Rocky Hutchinson \n* \n  \n(Thich Nhat Hanh turned 95 on October 11th. He is known as Thây\, which means “teacher\,” by many people. In 1982\, he established the Plum Village Monastery in the south of France. In November of 2014\, he had a major stroke\, and has been unable to speak since that time. In November of 2018\, he returned to Vietnam. Katie has been to Plum Village many times. She sent us this newsletter\, which I’ve edited a bit:) (J.S.) \n  \nDear Beloved Community\,  \n  \nWarm greetings from Plum Village\, France  \n  \nPeaceful dwelling  \n  \nAs we approach Thầy’s 95th birthday this week\, we would like to share with our international community how Thầy and our sangha at Từ Hiếu Temple in Huế\, Vietnam have been doing…..We are deeply grateful for the love and dedication of the team of people taking care of our teacher.  \n  \nOver the last year\, Thầy’s health has weakened. The autumn rains have always been challenging for Thầy’s lungs and health\, and continue to be so. This spring Thầy was not able to go outside to visit the temple grounds as much as he could last year. Nevertheless\, the sangha was delighted that\, when the Từ Hiếu Temple renovation was finished\, Thầy was well enough to make a tour of the temple to visit the completed works. In recent months\, Thầy has been resting for most of the day with his eyes closed\, yet he is often very alert\, present and at peace. When the weather is fine\, the attendants help Thầy to go out onto the veranda of the Deep Listening Hut to enjoy the sun.   \n  \nWe are here for you  \n  \nWith the great challenges of the Covid-19 pandemic in Vietnam\, both Từ Hiếu Root Temple and our Diệu Trạm nunnery have been mostly closed to visitors. Fortunately\, Huế has been spared the major outbreak that Ho Chi Minh City has endured….Many people in Vietnam have been without food or work. With the help of our international sangha friends\, as part of our Love and Understanding social work program\, our monastics in Vietnam have been doing their best to supply oxygen\, food\, medicine and donations at the roadside food banks helping those most in need.  \n  \nWe are deeply aware that the pandemic has brought great suffering to countless people all around the world. We continue to do our best to practice diligently with stability and compassion\, so we can be a refuge for you all\, now and in the future. It is our deep wish to open Plum Village in France again as soon as possible.  \n  \nNew ways to practice together  \n  \n….Finding ways to support one another as we integrate mindfulness practice more deeply into daily life has been a powerful collective journey.  \n  \nThis month\, a small delegation of monastics representing Thầy will be traveling from Plum Village to Scotland to participate in the TED Countdown conference ahead of the COP26 climate talks. They will be sharing Thầy’s teachings on ethics and awakening with leaders\, scientists\, activists and businesspeople; and they will also teach practices of mindful walking\, mindful breathing\, mindful eating\, and the art of deep listening. Thầy always hoped that mindfulness retreats could be organized ahead of political summits\, and it’s wonderful to have the chance to contribute towards his vision.  \n  \nThe gift of listening  \n  \nFor Thầy’s birthday this year\, we’re inviting our whole community to offer Thầy the gift of our practice: in particular\, the collective practice of deep listening to ourselves\, our loved ones\, and the Earth. Our own practice of mindfulness is the most powerful gift we can offer to continue Thầy’s teachings and legacy in the world.   \n  \nThank you for being there\, and for walking this path with us. We are deeply grateful for your continued support and generosity for our monastic community as we carry Thầy’s legacy forward into the future.  \n  \nWith love\, gratitude\, and trust\,   \n  \nThe Monks and Nuns of Plum Village  \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n* \n  \n72 \n  \nAll my errors made me who I am— \nthat set-back quickened my epiphany\, \nthat detour brought me to the way\, \ncatastrophe was cradle to awakening\, \ndisaster kindled the great shazam. \n  \nYou young folks\, take a lesson \nfrom one humbled by attrition: \nmay you relish revelation born \nof every kink in your intention \nas required by your formation. \n  \nVery Local Weather \n  \nThe forecast is moderate\, but significant— \nat least to me: the little storm my body builds \npassing through this world. Light breezes \nof the breath inhaled become variable winds\, \nenough to stir a drifting feather\, or puff some \nthistledown\, my sigh slight\, but bold\, compared \nto a bird’s whisper stirring a thicket\, or wisplet \nof the butterfly\, flaring wings through golden light. \nA warming trend imbues the damp stump I sit on\, \nthen I disturb the air by stepping the stony path. \nAnd don’t forget the spate of yellow rain spent \nfrom my cloudy soul onto dry leaves. And \ndon’t forget how my habits change the climate\, \nmy light\, my speed\, my hurricane of acquisition \nmelting ice\, raising seas\, burning mountains— \nI and you and all of our tornado transformations. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nToday is a happy day: Josh Underhill got out of prison this morning. Christine Darnell forwarded me a picture from Josh’s mom. He has a big smile on his face. Christine informed me that “he finished off his chicken fried steak\, hash browns and gravy with no problem.” I’m looking forward to having pizza with Josh on Sunday\, in two days. \n  \nI met Josh on a Wednesday evening\, June 3\, 2009\, and spent three hours with him every week for six years. And then\, Nancy and I saw him once a month for five more years. We did a lot of plays together: A Midsummer Night’s Dream\, Twelfth Night\, Twelve Angry Men\, King Lear\, Winter’s Tale\, Hamlet. We have a lot of shared memories\, a lot of the same friends. \n  \nNancy and I had the good fortune to watch Josh grow up—become wiser\, and more self-confident. He has always been very thoughtful of others. A gentle soul. \n  \nYesterday was overcast and rainy. Today the sky is bright blue. I can’t imagine what it must feel like for Josh today—not surrounded by concrete walls\, seeing so much\, experiencing so much\, getting to spend the day with his loved ones. Might be a bit of a “sensory overload\,” and somewhat overwhelming emotionally. There will be challenges ahead\, but he’s going to do well. He’s been on a good trajectory for a long time. I’m grateful to have him as my friend. \n  \nDear Josh:  \nA lot of people love you and wish you well. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \n(Note to readers: Please contribute to our dialogue as writers as well as readers.) URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-10-15-21/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Unknown.jpeg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20211014 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211028 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20211017T202714Z LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T125647Z UID:2400-1634169600-1635379199@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 10/14/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \nThe Ethiopians say that their gods are flat-nosed and black\, \nWhile the Thracians say that theirs have blue eyes and red hair. \nIf cattle or horses or lions had hands and could draw\, \nAnd could sculpt like men\, then the horses would draw their gods \nLike horses\, and cattle like cattle; and each would shape \nBodies of gods in their own likeness. \n  \n― Xenophanes  (c. 570-478 B.C.E) \n  \nOctober 14\, 2021 \n  \nJohnny’s Brief Guide to Ancient Greece \n  \nWARNING!: My mind tends to meander. This essay might do likewise. \n  \nAbout five years ago\, or so\, I chanced to read “The Suppliants” by Aeschylus. Written about 463 B.C.E.\, it is one of the earliest plays there is. In it\, a group of women have come from North Africa to Argos\, in Greece\, seeking asylum\, to escape being forced into marriages against their will. When I read it\, I thought: “Wow! That’s still happening: women are coming to Greece as refugees from North Africa to escape from forced marriages—among other things.” And I thought it would be cool to do a production of “The Suppliants” in one of those big amphitheaters that you see pictures of. \n  \nIt was one of those fantasies that last for a while\, until other ideas come along and crowd it out. \n  \nThen\, earlier this year\, a Greek actor and director named Stratis Panourios was a guest speaker for the Shakespeare in Prisons Conference. I saw his talk online\, \n (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BuKvkE_cZDk&t=32s)\, \nand a week later participated in an online conversation with him. He had directed a production of Shakespeare’s play “The Tempest” at a prison in Greece. He is smart\, funny\, engaging—I liked him immediately. \n (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zMZaUUW_Xs&t=64s.)  \nI emailed him my idea about doing “The Suppliants” of Aeschylus and including stories of contemporary refugee women in the performance. He sent me a “call for submissions” form from an arts festival: 2023 Eleusis European Capital of Culture. \n  \nWe submitted a proposal\, along with three other collaborators: Zeina Daccache\, Vassiliki Katrivanou and Alokananda Roy. Some prison friends will remember Zeina. She is a drama therapist who came to our production of “Twelve Angry Men” at Two Rivers prison\, in 2012. Zeina had directed a production of the same play at Roumieh prison\, and made a great documentary film about it called “12 Angry Lebanese.” \n(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tf5akVvHhx4&t=29s.) \nVassiliki lives in Athens and has worked on refugee issues as a member of the Greek Parliament. She currently works for the Greek Council on Refugees. \n(https://openroadpdx.com/team/vassiliki-katrivanou/.) \nShe made a documentary film with Bushra Azzouz called “Women of Cyprus.” She came to our production of “Midsummer Night’s Dream” at Two Rivers in 2010\, and took photos for the film Bushra was shooting. (That film is nearing completion\, and should be released in 2022.) I met Alokananda Roy in 2018 at the Shakespeare in Prisons Conference in San Diego. She had directed big dance-theater productions at a prison in India\, and the performers had taken the shows on tour to theaters in many Indian cities. \n(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OspzzO7gAiw&t=1s.) \nOur Dream Team is still waiting to hear if we will be included in the festival. Keep your fingers crossed! \n  \nI got very excited about going to Greece. When acting in or directing a play\, I like to do research on the background of the story—the time and place when the play was written\, and also the time and place in which the story is set. Ancient Greece is a treasure trove! For the past several months I’ve been reading about Greek Drama and Philosophy and Culture and Religion and Literature and Mythology—everything written by a Greek or about the Greeks that I can get my hands on. \n  \nThe Western tradition of Literature begins with the Iliad and Odyssey of Homer. In Athens\, in the Fifth Century B.C.E\, the poets Aeschylus\, Sophocles\, Euripides and Aristophanes began our tradition of theater. Our philosophical tradition begins with the Greeks\, notably Socrates\, Plato and Aristotle\, in Athens. The Athenians were the first city-state to attempt Democracy as a form of government. And then there are all those strange myths that have inspired poets\, painters\, playwrights and psychiatrists since the Renaissance. Shakespeare wrote a long poem called “Venus and Adonis.” “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” is set in Athens\, just before the wedding of Theseus and Hippolyta. Botticelli painted “The Birth of Venus”! \n(https://www.uffizi.it/en/artworks/birth-of-venus.) \nYeats and Rilke both wrote poems about Leda and the Swan. Homer’s Odyssey inspired James Joyce’s Ulysses and Nikos Kazantzakis’ epic The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel. Stephen Berkoff’s 1980 play “Greek” is a modern re-telling of Sophocles’s “Oedipus Tyrannus.” Lee Breuer’s 1989 musical “The Gospel at Colonus” is based on Sophocles’ “Oedipus at Colonus.” \n(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ZyQP_zrD2U.) \nIn 2017\, Nancy and I saw a great production of Mary Zimmerman’s play “The Odyssey” at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival\, in Ashland. Sigmund Freud postulated an “Oedipus Complex” to explain why human life is such a tragedy. Et cetera. Et cetera. \n  \nAt a tender age\, I got involved in Theater and also I went off to India to study Philosophy\, so I have always been intrigued with Greece\, where these things began in the West. I fell in love with Socrates\, and sat in on classes taught by the great Greek scholar-philosopher Gregory Vlastos at the University of California at Berkeley\, when he was giving lectures in preparation for writing his book Socrates: Ironist and Moral Philosopher. I got a CETA grant back in 1977\, and the first play I ever directed was Choēphór0i\, “The Libation Bearers\,” of Aeschylus. I’ve played the part of the blind seer Tiresias in “The Bacchae” of Euripides twice!—directed by Keith Scales for the Classic Greek Theater of Oregon\, and directed by choreographer Bill T. Jones\, for a dance-theater workshop production at Columbia University. \n  \nPhilosophy has become an academic subject\, taught by Philosophy Professors to Philosophy Students in Universities. Mostly\, they read the writings of the most famous philosophers in the Western Philosophical tradition\, and discuss their ideas. For Socrates and Plato\, philosophia\, the love of wisdom\, was something quite different. They wanted to know: how should we live? Life is short—what is the best way to spend the brief time we have? When I went to India\, I didn’t go in order to become a scholar of Indian Philosophy. I wanted to get enlightenment! The gurus I studied with taught what might be called “The Art of Living\,” which included Philosophy\, Psychology and Religion—as it did for Socrates and Plato. I read Plato and Walt Whitman not because I want to impress people at cocktail parties\, but because I want to live a meaningful life. I want to be wiser\, kinder\, happier\, more free. I want to better understand what’s going on here! \n  \nThe word theos\, “god\,” had a different meaning for the Greeks in those days than it does for those of us who grew up with a monotheistic worldview. Instead of saying “God is Love\,” it would have made more sense to say “Love is a god.” Anything eternal was a god or a goddess—Earth\, Sky\, Night\, Day\, Evening\, Sleep\, Dreams\, Madness\, Desire\, Violence\, Friendship\, Fate\, Chaos\, Death—all were holy. The Greeks lived in a sacred landscape\, where mortal women gave birth to children whose fathers were gods—or even rivers! \n  \nThe performances of Greek tragedies were sacred rites. The “City Dionysia” was a festival in Athens dedicated to the god Dionysus. The god was believed to be present for the performances. Just as New England Puritans were required to go to church\, Athenians were required to attend the plays. It was a religious duty. Everyone was expected to honor the gods and goddesses by making sacrifices and performing sacred rites. One thing you definitely didn’t want to do was anger the gods. The plays told stories sacred to the Greeks\, including stories about the Trojan War and its aftermath. If you’ve read the Iliad\, you will remember that the gods and goddesses of Olympus took sides\, and got very involved. \n  \nMost of the stories that the Greek playwrights told were tragedies—so much so\, that we might get the impression that the Greeks in those days had a “tragic worldview.” But trying to understand how people in Athens at the time of Socrates understood the world and their place in it is extremely challenging. Maybe even a Herculean labor! It’s mind-boggling! So much was going on! And they were going through big changes—thanks in no small part to the philosophers and playwrights. \n  \nThere were three kinds of plays: tragedies\, comedies and satyr plays. We have only seven of the seventy to ninety plays that Aeschylus wrote\, seven of the more than 120 plays that Sophocles wrote\, eighteen of the ninety or so plays that Euripides wrote\, and eleven of the forty comedies that Aristophanes wrote. One satyr play survives\, “The Cyclops” by Euripides. Every year at the City Dionysia Festival three playwrights would be invited to present four plays each—three tragedies and one satyr play. It’s interesting that after watching three tragedies\, full of suffering—Oedipus’ mother hangs herself and he gouges out his own eyes—the mood would shift to a knockabout comedy\, full of bawdy humor. (Satyrs spent their time getting drunk and having sex. Greek vases give us ample evidence that ancient Greeks were definitely not Puritans.) \n  \nThe chorus was an essential part of all Greek plays. In an early play like “The Suppliants\,” the chorus of Egyptian women\, “Danaïdes\,” is the protagonist of the drama. (Lots of words we use today come from the Greek: protagonist\, antagonist\, drama\, tragedy\, chorus\, catharsis\, nemesis\, hubris\, myth\, psyche\, eros\, idea\, and on and on.) Most modern plays don’t have a chorus\, but most operas do\, and lots of dance productions and musicals do. The Greek chorus didn’t just speak their lines\, they sang them. And they danced. Among the many challenges for our production will be integrating music and movement into the performance. Fortunately\, one of our collaborators is a dancer-choreographer. \n  \nThere are a lot more books and essays about Greek Tragedy than about Greek Comedy\, but I’d like to say a word or two about Aristophanes. He boldly made fun of the most powerful (and dangerous) men in the city—and they were in the audience! He made fun of everyone and everything\, including tragic playwrights\, philosophers\, gods and goddesses. Most remarkably\, he wrote anti-war plays\, like Lysistrata—where the women refuse to have sex with their husbands until they end the war—and he did this while his country was at war! It’s a credit to the people of ancient Athens that he got away with it! \n  \nI hope we get the grant! For me\, going to Greece will be a kind of pilgrimage. I want to see the places where Zeus hit people with lightning bolts\, places where gods and goddesses were born\, where heroes performed their mighty deeds. I want to walk around the agora\, where Socrates spent his days asking his fellow citizens about the meaning of Justice and Virtue. He was sentenced to death for corrupting the youth with his philosophizing. He calmly drank the poison after explaining to his friends why he was completely unafraid to die. URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-10-14-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20211003T150000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20211003T170000 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210930T172637Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210930T173056Z UID:2392-1633273200-1633280400@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: Looking Glass Bookstore 10/3/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nBeloved Bibliophiles \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFor Sunday\, October 3rd\, at 3 pm (PDT)\, Bill Kloster and Katie Radditz will guide us on a magical mystery tour of Portland’s legendary Looking Glass Bookstore. This is a SPECIAL EVENT! \n\n\nDon’t miss it!\n\n\n\nHere’s the (new) link:\n\n\n\nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/86949399028\n\n\n\n\n\npeace & love\n\n\n\nJohnny\n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-looking-glass-bookstore-10-3-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210930 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211014 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210930T165714Z LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T125408Z UID:2386-1632960000-1634169599@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 9/30/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nThe heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of….We know the truth not only by the reason\, but by the heart. \n  \n—Blaise Pascal  (1623-1662) \n  \nSeptember 30\, 2021 \n  \nRocky sent this contribution to “peace\, love\, happiness & understanding” from segregation: \n  \n  \nHEART! \n  \nHey\, I’ve been thinking a lot of the heart and trying to determine why it has so much control over each of us. Scientifically\, I understand how the influx of adrenaline and hormones—either oxytocin or testosterone—affect the heart chemically. \n  \nWhat I want to find out is why it is the place where love\, joy\, pain\, fear\, sorrow and tears seem to come from. Is the heart a doorway to where we come from before we are born? Or is it a keyhole where we (“our soul”) goes? If our heart is filled with only love\, it feels like what heart should feel like. \n  \nI feel in my heart all the people I love\, loved\, or will love. Is it strange that when I place the ones I love or despise in my heart I envision them all in robes\, with no shoes? My heart is a sacred place. I assume it looks much like a battlefield\, scarred\, broken\, scorched earth\, with spots of pure beauty. What does your heart look like in your mind? \n  \nThe depiction of R. W. Emerson’s “oversoul” has stitched its image upon my soul. I can feel my life and all of its emotions flowing into me from that other\, unknown place. But it flows into my heart\, not my eyes\, not my poor wounded mind. No\, my oversoul is flooded into my heart. Those of you who have this ailment will be of like-minded understanding. Our tears come from our heart\, the heart being our center of…all of us. \n  \nI feel that under the right circumstances I could live well without my mind\, among others that are willing to be of like-heartedness. The ancient Chinese believed that the heart was the source of all our cognition. I do not think they were wrong. Albert Einstein believed our heart was where mankind would find true timelessness\, or a wormhole into time/space—much like my thought of the keyhole to heaven. \n  \nWhen we truly\, deeply love each other\, I feel we are as close to a heaven on earth as we’re ever going to get\, and\, with that said\, the reverse could be said—that to hate is hell on earth. I would prefer to love everyone\, and not allow the poison of hate to stain any more of my being—to live in love\, joy\, and\, yes\, I consider even some pain and suffering to be alive in love\, in life\, to accept the duality of all things and understand that we love the circle of all things. \n  \nI honestly believe my heart is a hobo\, a vagabond\, a transient. My heart is happiest homeless. I do want love and am good at loving…too good\, though. Too deep and too long. I keep the love for others long after they have forgot to love me. Which means my heart is at home in the gutter\, or dog house\, or kicked. That is why it is a battlefield of life. \n  \nHoward brought up Knausgaard’s epic My Struggle\, and “the body’s gentleman’s agreement with death\,” and the steps of irrevocability with the pooling of blood in the heart. Dying of a broken heart was also discussed by us\, which in a morbid way is in my top 3 ways to go now. The love and passion of it brings tears from my heart to my eyes. To love someone so much that you follow them into death…very romantic. Pure love. \n  \nI once read somewhere\, or perhaps someone told me\, that Shakespeare wrote the great works with one hand upon his heart. So I tried it…well\, this all came out. So\, does it work to write to the rhythm of a beating heart? I feel that it is in the eye of the beholder\, or in the sinews of how a writing touches your heart.  \n  \nWhat touches your heart to tears? The vision of a single mom or dad weeping over the gift of a fine meal for kids? Or the fact that you’ve stopped shooting H\, and it’s been a year? You were tempted and walked away. Or those last few moments so precious you did not get to spend with a loved one who died of cancer? What touches your heartstrings? Don’t be afraid…let it touch them. \n  \nLet us all speak of the heart\, here\, now\, with those we love. \n  \n—Rocky Hutchinson  9-19-21 \n* \n  \nwake up\, heart! \n  \nwake up\, heart! \nwake up and love everyone and every thing \nlove the unlovable \nthe unhappy old men who start the wars \nthe geniuses who collapse the economy \nthe heads of the big corporations who ruin the earth \nthey need love\, too \nwhy else would they do stuff like that? \n  \nwe all want to love and be loved \nwe all need to love and be loved \nlove everything that moves \nand everything that won’t budge \nlove the person who is reading or listening to this poem \n  \nyou might start with the easy ones \npassing dogs \nlaughing children \nfluffy white clouds \nall the spring flowers shouting “love me!” \n  \npractice on the easy ones \nuntil you get so good at it that you accidentally love the weird and scary homeless people\,  \nthe criminals\,  \nthe people whose views differ from yours \n—before you have time to think about it \n  \nheart\, you were born for love \nmr. brain sometimes tells you not to \n“don’t love that one\,” he says\, “that one doesn’t deserve it” \n“don’t be a fool” \nforgive mr. brain \nhe can’t help it \nhe’s always making distinctions between this and that \nhe needs a hug \n  \nyou know better \nyou know that the thing to do is just to love \nto wake up and love without limit \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nThis is a slightly edited transcription from an interview with Alokananda Roy\, who has choreographed large dance productions in Indian prisons\, which then toured the country!: \n  \nLove Therapy in My Second Home \n  \nWhen a child is born\, he or she is like a fresh flower. No child is born a criminal or an offender. Things happen for various reasons. Who are we to judge? We have not been in that situation. I have been through a journey with such people\, and all I did was treat them like a human being and not an untouchable. The rest is history. \n  \nI was walking into a man’s world. Girls are fewer in number. I have never planned anything in my life. Honestly speaking\, I never felt I have to achieve anything. I just followed my heart. I went in as a guest to the jail\, which is now called a “correctional home.” I couldn’t imagine it will transform me\, and I never thought my spirit will find its freedom in the jail. \n  \nIn every adverse period of my life\, dancing rejuvenated me. That’s what I wanted to share with them—to be involved in something creative. But it is a fact that at other times it is very depressing in a place like jail. You cannot be happy in a jail. Nobody wants to stay there. \n  \nIt was on the International Women’s Day\, and I was invited as a guest. The girls wanted to learn dance\, and I readily agreed\, because I love challenges\, because I didn’t know what it was like to be with these people who are shunned by the society.  \n  \nWhen I was coming out\, I noticed the boys\, and I really felt sorry for their mothers—being a mother myself. I felt any one of them could have been my child\, and I wanted to do something. \n  \nJail is basically a place of curiosity for people outside. It’s a very intriguing place\, very different from the outside world. When I first went in I was equally curious\, like others. I never thought I will be so emotionally involved—not to this extent. Instinctively\, I asked Mr. Sharma\, “Can I also teach the boys?” He was surprised\, because people are afraid to go there\, or to interact with them. Many go there out of curiosity\, but dance is something which is unheard of and unthinkable in the jail. I have to admit that Mr. Sharma was a great\, great\, great support. \n  \nThe energy was not only the physical energy—when we are dancing\, it affects our body and mind and soul. We don’t do it consciously\, it just happens. While teaching them\, I realized why we feel good when we dance. \n  \nAlthough the girls were very excited\, the boys were not. They thought dancing was being feminine. And I did think that they would feel this way\, so I started with martial dance\, and I told them that it was like karate\, kung fu. So\, probably they could relate to that. We started with martial dance\, and then the vibrant folk dances of India. And they started enjoying it\, because the rhythm they had lost in life was coming back\, in their body\, their mind\, their soul\, their thoughts. And not only the boys who first came in\, others started joining in\, and I had a team of 60 boys and 10 girls. \n  \nWhile they were rehearsing for these dances—the folk dances\, the martial dances—they started making the props\, the costumes\, which they never thought they could. So\, all their latent talents\, which were lying submerged\, were surfacing. All their artistic talents were coming out. They didn’t even know that they had an artist in them. \n  \nWhatever they wish to convey\, they write it down on a piece of paper. Once a boy wrote\, “I don’t remember my mother so much\, but now when I shut my eyes and think of her I see your face.” I was so touched. I did nothing special for him. Just that little bit made such a difference. \n  \nTell me who has not made any mistake in life\, big or small. There are so many offenders walking free in our society. Nobody points a finger at them. The moment you walk into the jail\, you are stamped\, and you have to live with that stigma. \n  \nAs they were changing their attitude\, their body language\, I thought of doing Valmiki Pratibha\, because it was their story: the transformation of a criminal into a sage. And I found all my Valmikis there\, and it has created history. \n  \nWhen somebody dies in the family of one of them\, we all sit around and pray for the departed soul. We don’t even know who they are\, but they’re all brothers\, sisters\, and they’re my children. So\, we all sit together and pray. They have also learned to share the sorrows of others. It’s all a bonding\, a brotherhood beyond boundaries. Never ever\, anywhere in the world\, as far as I know—I may be wrong—do prisoners go out of the prison\, perform all over the country\, and they come back to the jail. Nobody has ever even imagined to escape\, although they had every opportunity to do so.  \n  \nAnd gradually\, with time\, there was a peculiar bonding\, when I started becoming a mother figure to them\, and they called me “Ma\,” or “Mother.” It was such a beautiful feeling\, because there was so much innocence\, so much love\, so much sincerity in that bonding\, that connection that we had. And gradually they became a part of my life. I realize why. They also told me nobody touches them. They always said\, “Ma\, you do what you want\, but don’t leave us. Be with us always\, all our life.” \n  \nYou see\, all I did was channelize their energy—the unused youthful energy that they had—in a positive way. And it worked. They were doing so well\, that I thought: “Why don’t we have a little performance within the walls of the jail?” Because I never ever imagined—we never imagined—they will go and conquer the whole country. \n  \nWithin the jail\, there are boys and girls from different religious backgrounds. After doing Valmiki Pratibha\, and when they all actually became brothers\, there was no barrier\, no religious barrier. Each one was celebrating the others’ festivals together.  \n  \nSince we started this journey\, many boys and girls have been released\, and they’re all in touch with me. Many of my boys come to meet me with the produce of their farms. And believe me\, none of them—not one—have gone back to the dark world. They’re all well settled in their own way. Many of them do not come from privileged backgrounds\, but they’re all settled happily with their families. Sometimes they call me when they get a new job. Sometimes the call me\, even send a train ticket\, when they get married. They’ll call me when they have a child. I have a very happy family all around me\, and I’m a proud mother of hundreds of children. \n  \nWhen you have children\, you also have grandchildren. There are so many children who live with their mothers in the jails\, because they have nowhere to go\, nobody to take care of them at home. Such children live like prisoners as well. \n  \nIt is so unfortunate! I feel like a criminal myself: “Aren’t we crushing their childhood? Aren’t we killing their growth\, the normal growth of a child?” They call me “Grandmother”: “Didun.” I felt it was my responsibility to at least try and give them some kind of a normal childhood—where they will go to school in uniform\, they will have proper classes\, extracurricular activities\, they will see cartoons\, they will have a library\, they will have toys and a playground to play around\, like any other child. Is it too much to ask for\, for a child who has not sinned\, to have a normal childhood? That’s how Heart Print was born. \n  \nFirst it was just boarding\, where I had brought some of them whose parents were in jail. Now some of them go to an English Medium school. And the others\, who live with their mothers till age six\, have a little Montessori which is called Heart Print. Their mothers have their fingerprints there. My little grandchildren will leave their heart print behind when they go to a better place\, a better school\, after age six. That is also our responsibility: that they go to a place where they can adjust themselves like any other child\, outside. \n  \nOn 7th of January\, 2018\, early morning\, my boys from the prison crossed another milestone in life. I think they created another history. For the past ten years they have been performing in public auditoriums\, where they were onstage and the audience was in the auditorium. There was still a fine line. But that morning they mingled with 12\,000 marathon runners\, and they ran the marathon with them. There was no wall\, no barrier. It was pure joy of inclusiveness. \n  \nSo\, I’m proud to be their mother. I’m proud of them\, because they have not only made a difference to my life. I think if the society really highlights their transformation\, many people in the world will want to be transformed\, and see the light. \n  \n—Alokananda Roy \n* \n  \nHere’s a link to the YouTube video\, which gives a more vivid picture of Alokananda and what she has done in Indian prisons:  \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OspzzO7gAiw \n* \n  \nLike Rocky\, Kim wants us to share our stories: \n  \n  \n                                        Splinters \n  \nIt’s the little things that get you. Me? Everything’s going  \ngreat—except I have this splinter at the tip of my index finger  \nI can’t get out. Whatever I do I get this twinge that stops me. \nI meet the world with pain. \n  \nDo you carry festering sorrow\, a weight of guilt\, a habit of fear\,  \ninvisible anguish darkening days? On the street we pass not  \nknowing\, not showing\, nursing all our precious troubles\, humming \nas we hide splinters at the heart. \n  \nI have an idea: let’s tell how it is and why\, stories of how we came \nto carry what we carry\, how we suffer what we must. And hey\, \nlook up there\, where the tops of the trees are all \nreaching for the sky. \n  \n—Kim Stafford URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-9-30-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210919T150000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210919T170000 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210919T040605Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210919T041449Z UID:2374-1632063600-1632070800@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: BOOKS WITH PICTURES IN THEM 9/19/21 DESCRIPTION:Beloved Bibliophiles\n\n\nFor Sunday\, September 19th\, at 3 pm (PDT)\, the theme for our Zoom gathering is: BOOKS WITH PICTURES IN THEM.\n\n\nHere’s the (new) link:\n\n\n\n\n\n\nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/86949399028\n\n\n\n\n\n\nOur Special Guest will be Professor Andrew D. Larkin. Should be edifying.\n\n\n\n \n \nWe hope to see you there.\n \n \nPeace\, Love & Beauty\n \n \nJohnny URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-books-with-pictures-in-them-9-19-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210916 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210930 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210918T231522Z LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T125225Z UID:2366-1631750400-1632959999@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 9/16/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \nYet Another So-called Humor Issue \n  \nSeptember 16\, 2021 \n  \nOld Mother Hubbard \nWent to the cupboard\, \nTo give the poor dog a bone: \nWhen she came there\, \nThe cupboard was bare\, \nAnd so the poor dog had none. \n  \nShe went to the baker’s \nTo buy him some bread; \nWhen she came back \nThe dog was dead! \n  \nShe went to the undertaker’s \nTo buy him a coffin; \nWhen she came back \nThe dog was laughing. \n  \nShe took a clean dish \nto get him some tripe; \nWhen she came back \nHe was smoking his pipe. \n  \nShe went to the alehouse \nTo get him some beer; \nWhen she came back \nThe dog sat in a chair. \n  \nShe went to the tavern \nFor white wine and red; \nWhen she came back \nThe dog stood on his head. \n  \nShe went to the fruiterer’s \nTo buy him some fruit; \nWhen she came back \nHe was playing the flute. \n  \nShe went to the tailor’s \nTo buy him a coat; \nWhen she came back \nHe was riding a goat. \n  \nShe went to the hatter’s \nTo buy him a hat; \nWhen she came back \nHe was feeding her cat. \n  \nShe went to the barber’s \nTo buy him a wig \nWhen she came back \nHe was dancing a jig. \n  \nShe went to the cobbler’s \nTo buy him some shoes; \nWhen she came back \nHe was reading the news. \n  \nShe went to the sempstress \nTo buy him some linen; \nWhen she came back \nThe dog was spinning. \n  \nShe went to the hosier’s \nTo buy him some hose; \nWhen she came back \nHe was dressed in his clothes. \n  \nThe Dame made a curtsy\, \nThe dog made a bow; \nThe Dame said\, Your servant; \nThe dog said\, Bow-wow. \n  \nThis wonderful dog \nWas Dame Hubbard’s delight\, \nHe could read\, he could dance\, \nHe could sing\, he could write; \nShe gave him rich dainties \nWhenever he fed\, \nAnd erected a monument \nWhen he was dead. \n* \n  \nJeffrey Sher sent us this joke: \n  \nQ: What did the Buddhist tell the door-to-door salesperson who came to his home selling vacuum cleaners? \nA: Too many attachments! \n* \n  \nWill Hornyak sent this one: \n  \nMahatma Gandhi traveled through India barefoot as a young man\, meditating\, praying\, fasting and meeting his countrymen.  His thickly calloused feet carried him from village to village where he begged for food\, often eating rotten scraps.  “My health suffered\, I became weak\, my breath was foul.” \n  \nGandhi carried with him only one book throughout his travels: Mary Poppins.  “I was inspired by the word “Super-calla-fragalistic-expialadoscious” since I was a Super Calloused Fragile Mystic with a case of Halitosis.” \n* \n  \n  \nA penguin walked into a bar and said\, “Has my father been in here today?” \nThe bartender said\, “ I don’t know. What does he look like?” \n  \nA man walked into a bar and sat down next to a man with a dog at his feet. “Does your dog bite?” he asked. “No\,” was the reply. So he reaches down to pet the dog\, and the dog bites him. “I thought you said your dog doesn’t bite!” he said. “That’s not my dog.” \n  \nWhen I was younger\, I felt like a man trapped inside a woman’s body. Then I was born. \n  \nWhat is the last thing that goes through a bugs mind as it hits a windshield? \nHis butt. \n  \nWhat kind of coffee was served on the Titanic? \nSanka. \n  \nHow many performance artists does it take to change a lightbulb? \nI don’t know. I left at intermission. \n  \nHow many Unitarians does it take to change a lightbulb? \nWe believe that incandescent\, fluorescent\, tinted\, or three-way are equally valid paths to light\, and if\, in your journey\, you have felt the need to change your lightbulb\, we are holding a lightbulb service on Sunday at which you’re welcome to recite a poem or perform a dance about luminescence. \n  \n“Hello! Is this the fire department?” \n“Yes.” \n“Listen\, my house is on fire! You’ve got to come right away! It’s terrible!” \n“Okay\, how do we get to your house?” \n“You don’t have those big red trucks anymore?” \n  \nI failed my driving test today. The instructor asked me\, “What do you do at a red light?” \nI said\, “I usually check my emails and see what people are up to on Facebook.” \n* \n  \nWell\, that’s about it for now. Just remember why birds fly south for the winter… \nIt’s too far to walk.  \n  \nMay all people be happy! URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-9-16-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210915 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20211015 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210918T224401Z LAST-MODIFIED:20211130T002700Z UID:2359-1631664000-1634255999@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue 9/15/21 DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \n  \nI find it interesting how my mind works. \n—Michel Deforge \n  \nSeptember 15\, 2021 \n  \nThe Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue is one year old! Our first dialogue came out on September 15\, 2020. Happy Birthday to us! Nancy had the lovely idea of looking back over the last year\, and remembering together some of what we’ve shared. Here goes!: \n  \nIn segregation we have paintings of different scenes….since putting this wisdom of Thich Nhat Hanh in perspective you see more than a painting. For it opens my eyes to the time\, the painter\, the painter’s years of art skills\, everything down to what makes paint…paint. There are so many miracles that came together to make these paintings! It’s amazing. Now I try to be mindful of what miracles come into place to make people I meet\, foods I eat…. \n  \nOften in my experience of living in prison there have been “rules” or “discriminating views” on this or that person. There is an atmospheric influence that enforces racial segregation and fuels hate amongst others. It’s follow the rules\, or the road. (As of late\, the Road is wide open and lovely. Join me?) Harboring one train of thought as truth\, and not having an open heart and open mind\, blurs the hidden beauty of truth in others—obstructed by societal upbringings\, social media\, and other major influences. Abandonment of views\, or opinions\, is an ice pick of relief\, chipping away the cold ice of hate\, oppression\, single-mindedness\, and when you can finally free yourself from the icy blur of lies and deceit\, you will find that what you thought was truth was an obstacle holding you from seeing the beauty in the soul of everyone/everything. Having an open heart\, open mind\, and leaving the views you’ve been taught\, you will learn so much\, and be able to see life\, and live life\, with deeper meaning\, and understanding. \n  \nI send all the Open Road/M & M family and the world Peace Love Happiness and Good Vibes. You all are beautiful and deserve the most! \n  \n—Jake Green \n* \n  \nI am the good man. \nI am the good decisions that I make. \nI am compassion\, I do not fake. \nI am kindness\, I am love. \nI am by choice\, not by chance. \nI am intent\, not happenstance. \nI am in servitude of good. \nI am alive and I am living. \nI am grateful I am. \n  \n—Joseph Opyd \n* \n  \nBy being mindful I have learned that there is value in all situations. While I suffer I learn\, while I’m happy I learn. Mindfulness is our tool to dig through the layers of our minds and be really truly in the moment\, allowing us to remove reaction and embrace each event for what it is truly worth\, “good\,” or “bad.” \n  \n—Cody Dalton \n* \n  \nI find myself\, my soul\, my beliefs and my being saturated in belonging—belonging to a love so deep\, so real\, so unreal. Coming from a life of nothing and going to a life full of love I never knew I could be a part of. A love that I knew was there\, there for others\, but for me…well\, it was only window shopping. \n  \nNow I long to be drenched in the core of my soul\, always and forever drowning in this love\, this love that has pierced my cosmic veil. This love for all\, for beauty\, for the ones who opened so many doors into and onto the mind\, heart and truth that dwells within my being…. \n  \nBlessings\, \nPeace\, \nJoy\, \nUnconditionally \nLove \nAll \nThere is in Life \n  \n—Rocky Hutchinson \n* \n  \nThe most important thing about life–greater than any discovery\, creation\, or attainment—is the simple fact that we are alive….If we open our eyes and ears we can remember how fantastic it is\, how precious\, how exciting\, how beautiful\, how crazy it is that we are here. We have arrived. We are not only alive but we can be aware of our life and we can appreciate our life. Meditation practice is taking time to appreciate this amazing fact….  \n  \nWhen I say “my body” or “my mind” there is a presumption of separation. There is “I” and there is “my body” and the two are at odds with each other. “I” want to “control my body” or “I” want to “control my mind” but who is this “I” who thinks it can chop pieces off of the whole and then control them?…. \n  \nThe body is not some dog that has to be beaten into submission. But neither is it some dog that has to be well fed and trained. It is the very matrix of my being. It is the finest intelligence\, awareness\, the consequence of a billion years of evolution. It perceives the world and it simultaneously creates the world. There is no brain without the body…and no heart\, either. \n  \nIn Buddhism they say the first prerequisite for enlightenment is a human birth.  \n  \nThere’s a famous Zen story in which a person brags that his master can walk on water. Another student says\, “My teacher can also perform miracles. When he is tired he sleeps; when he is hungry he eats.” To me this story has infinite implications and ramifications.  \n  \nWhat is purity?—what is purification? Meister Eckhart said\, “To be pure is to have no thoughts.” \n  \nHow to have no thoughts? Listen\, listen\, listen.  \n  \nI feel that “tapas”—purification—is listening\, with all the connotations of that beautiful word. When I am listening\, there is no division. If I am listening and the voice of division arises\, it is just another sound like the song of the bird or the beep beep beep of the truck backing up…it has no more “authority” than that.  \n  \nIf I listen\, I can sleep when I am tired and eat when I am hungry. \n  \n—Howard Thoresen \n* \n  \nI do truly believe that all humans are worthy of being loved\, so I guess that includes myself. Dang it! I know the best thing I can do for myself is continue to live a healthy clean life\, love others\, and surround myself with like-minded people….My hope is that someday I will be a successful productive member of society\, and when that child inside comes calling I can reassure him that we have the tools to live a healthy life\, and everything is going to be okay…. \n  \nLove can come from some very unexpected places when you least expect it and you may need it the most. It is an amazing thing that people are out there that care for their fellow humans. Even when the love might not be directed at you personally\, to see others loving others can have a huge impact on people. Reading all of your words and the newsletters has been great. When I see that type of thing it makes me want to be a better\, more loving and compassionate person. It is infectious. \n  \nI recently lost my father who was killed in a tragic motor vehicle accident. He was my rock and I was so looking forward to spending time with him when I got home. I tried to be strong at first\, but I started to slip into a very lonely dark place within a month. Nothing made sense and I felt fearful. Then I started to get unexpected support from the community where I grew up. A friend from the past reached out to me and we have been speaking ever since. Their love and support has seen me through the worst of it\, and I am feeling excited again about going home and continuing my father’s legacy. Love is a beautiful thing and it knows when you need it most\, how others’ compassion and understanding can bring you through dark times and make you feel hopeful again. Neat! Let’s all keep loving one another for the sake of those that may not know they need it. \n  \n—Aaron Gilbert \n* \n  \nI have taken up golf in my old age\, just by accident\, since I live a few blocks from a golf course\, I thought I would try it just to see what it was like. That was last spring. I quickly found that I loved the game. It is a practice of putting mind and body together in a challenging physical ritual\, and at it’s best there is a mystical experience to be had….fleetingly. \n  \nYesterday I played 18 holes particularly badly and came home feeling very frustrated. Of course I went out this morning and practiced\, and did a little better\, almost certainly because I wasn’t trying too hard to do well. \n  \nThen I came home\, turned on my computer\, and read Beginner’s Mind. It came like a ray of light that if I can play with beginner’s mind\, I will no longer get frustrated. I will probably play better too\, although that won’t matter any more (yes it will). \n  \n—Ken Margolis \n* \n  \nAll life\, particularly including prison life\, is often filled with ambiguities and heartfelt remorse for past actions and a need for new beginnings. \n  \nZen philosophy speaks to this concept: Always be a beginner\, always start with a fresh mind. Few concepts may be as important to success  in prison reform as new beginnings. \n  \nPeace and Love\, \n  \n—Jerry Smith \n* \n  \nOnce again\, Thây emphasizes that now is all that is and everything I need is already present\, here in and/or with me now. When I go looking out there (outside myself)—to others\, to the past\, to any possible future\, to things to places—I can never find peace\, whatever I am seeking. When I begin to turn inward\, embracing what is within me already\, I find peace\, freedom\, happiness: nirvana. It’s all right there\, just waiting for me to find it\, as it always was…. \n  \nIt is amazing what a few days of not mindfully breathing\, or purpose (practicing) can do to my mental state—more mercurial and more affected by influences. (grrr) It’s my own doing. I can’t blame anyone. Maybe…I can just relax\, breathe; and let it be what it is…? (Breathing…) How funny. Today is about bodhichitta and a “goal” of practice—to\, ultimately\, be able to aid/relieve the suffering of others. Wow! It’s funny because I see myself\, right now\, being very deep in my own mud/suffering. Getting better\, or anything positive\, is so far from my experience of now. And\, forget about being of help or benefit …Yet\, even now\, I may learn\, and from my learning\, another may derive a benefit…. \n  \nWouldn’t that be wonderful? If we could get many to meditate and peace were to spontaneously erupt. Then\, as a result of all the peaceful people and the contagious nature of peace\, that Peace broke out all over the world. What would that world look like? Would it be astonishing or amazing? Or\, would we all\, as active meditators\, know it was what we expected to occur? \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \nAll My Relations \n  \nI want to thank all my relations \nfor this chance to be on Earth \nin her time of flourishing; to thank  \nthe First People of this place\, the  \nMultnomah people\, the Clackamas\, \nMolalla\, Tualatin\, & Chinook\, to honor  \ntheir sovereignty in long and continuing  \nrelation\, still teaching us how we might \nbe here together; to thank my mother and father\,  \nmoon and sun\, for setting me forth before  \ntheir own passing on; to thank my grandmother \nwho listened to me so eloquently I learned \nto listen to my own heart and mind\, to find \nstories and songs there; to thank my family  \nand friends\, and all citizens and travelers  \nwho study and work for deeper kinship  \nin this place\, with one another\, and with  \nall creatures\, one Earth\, visible\, palpable\,  \nfragile\, intricate\, resonant\, in need of our \nbetter stories. I want to thank you  \nwho have gathered to receive what I have  \ncarried here — in hope that something \nI have may meet something you need\, \nso all our relations may be strengthened \nfor the life we live together. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nFor me\, it’s been a struggle my whole life to just “sit there” and not “be” with so many things constantly on my mind. It’s been nice to just be in the moment and focus on form\, breathing and not everything else. For me to truly be there in that moment I cease all those fleeting thoughts for those 30 minutes every other day. Then\, when I’m done\, I enjoy the practice so much I begin doing stretches while practicing mindfulness. This has become my favorite part of my days lately\, and it’s very peaceful. I encourage everyone to\, at the very least\, stretch and practice just being. \n  \n—Jeff Kuehner \n* \n  \nMy friends\, I must be honest. I have written this paper six times over! \n  \nI started out writing about good and evil\, page 156. Setting out\, I had in mind an ideal of vanquishing good\, evil and the universal duality….But I lost! \n  \nDuality has successfully wriggled its little fingers into every last nook and cranny; it won’t be going anywhere soon. And after thwarting my attempts at the highest level\, it opened my eyes…. \n  \nDuality seems to offer a reasonable solution\, and offers the key to any that seek. \n  \nCould co-existing be the harmony we seek\, could it shine light on the hidden path? The wonder of wonders keeps me wondering still… \n  \nI have been limiting myself for a very long time\, but\, thankfully\, we all can change! \n  \nI’ve come to the conclusion that indifference will never do. Balance\, on the other hand\, is a very different story. When using both the positive and the negative\, you allow them to cancel each other out…. \n  \nI’ll make my last stand with a final quote from the Hsin Hsin Ming: “…to accept everything is to be enlightened…” \n  \npeace & love & everything else \n  \n—Joshua Barnes \n* \n  \nSo often when an emotion arises that I don’t want to have I bury it. But what happens when there is no more room for them? \n  \nThis practice of mindful breathing to calm the storm or just wait it out without incident is the key\, for me\, to getting through many a bad day. \n  \nThere are many forms of breathing. The point I am trying to make is: let’s just take a look at what is going on in the inside of us\, grab ahold of it and examine it under a practice of mindfulness\, calm breathing\, and then maybe we can get a better understanding of what it is that makes us tick…or get ticked off. \n  \n—Brandon Gillespie \n* \n  \nMy homework for today: study my distress and dissatisfaction. Doctors\, nurses\, and therapists use this format to diagnose physical/mental ailments\, the SOAP format. Bhikkhu Analayo recommends applying the same format to our distress. Identify the problem by its (S) subjective and (O) objective components\, (A) assess the cause\, and then make a (P) plan. My problem today and every day is that I WANT THINGS TO BE DIFFERENT than they actually are. That person shouldn’t be rude. The rules shouldn’t be so arbitrary. The soup should not be so hot\, and it definitely should never be cold. The subjective is my experience of distress/dissatisfaction/discontentment. The objective\, the cause of my distress\, is my desire for things to be different. (Notice the cause is NOT the “errant” situation!) The assessment is that I really need to learn how to accept things as they are OR be more effective in making necessary changes (complaining is not changing). The plan\, using the jargon of this meditation tradition\, is the Eightfold Path\, or learning to behave differently\, shift my mental focus\, and learn to understand how the world actually works\, as opposed to how I fantasize it works. YTH #7\, 19\, and 317 relate to this. \n  \n—Shad Alexander \n* \n  \nWITHOUT \n  \nPicture nothing. \n  \nNothing is pictured. \n  \nAnd then everything food sex stoplight \nyoga mat grocery bag little gnat— \n  \nas through a valve \nin the middle of that pictured \nnothing: \n  \nit all comes rushing \nlike sparks \njetting in the void. \n  \nThe ocean goes back in the bottle \nonly when you ignore it. \n  \nI flit from station to station\, \nknowing nothing of meditation. \n  \nAnd I seek out mute buttons \nas if there are more than one\, \nas if it is something that exists \n  \nwithout. \n  \nHappy early 70th birthday! As my present to you\, I’ve written a poem in your honor: \n  \nAFTER \n  \nAnd you may find that you have nothing \nto say\, and that’s okay. The bird \n  \nyou pictured now because that’s the way \nthe brain works \n  \nand the concentric circles of its song— \nthey are always there. Jung defined \n  \nthe unconscious as everything \nyou have forgotten\, everything \n  \nyou’re not currently thinking about\, \nand everything you do not know. \n  \nThat narrows it down. \nSo the conscious mind is really \n  \nonly very little of what goes on— \nlike a lightbulb compared to the dawn. \n  \n—Alex Tretbar \n* \n  \nI so desire to be one with nature\, to be in the woods\, smell the fresh air and hear only nature. To touch Mother Earth and for her to touch me\, feeling her embrace. It has been way too long for me feeling pure nature\, and reading #358 at first made me feel sad for what I have been missing\, but then I read it again\, seeing that “Whenever she sees us suffering\, she will protect us.” In this moment I am in now\, she is protecting me with the knowledge that soon I will have the chance to feel the woods and her embrace once again. I cannot wait for that day…. \n  \nSomehow\, over the years\, a slow chip away happened. I found my true mind\, and in doing so I no longer only saw my afflictions\, but saw much more. Call it enlightenment. I no longer concentrated on my deluded mind or thoughts\, which in turn\, I suppose\, allowed me to truly heal my affliction that got me here to prison. I am still not perfect by far\, none of us are\, but I truly believe I have healed enough now to start my next chapter in life. A life outside these fences. A life as me and who I am. A life that will allow me to continue to heal and better who I am\, the person I know I am and want to be. \n  \n—Joshua Underhill \n* \n  \nI am here \nI see (or hear or touch) some thing \nI know it  \nYes (tiny smile) I am meditating \nMy knowing it \nMy seeing \nand my being here \nare somehow  \nrelated Yes (chuckle to myself) I am ok \nsomehow divisions \nare eased \ncan I “feel” \nhow you also \nare breathing \ncan I deeply  \nunderstand \nthat the  \nwater from a \ncloud \nis my relation? \nthe light and gray \ncolors from \nthat cloud \ncome all the \nway here \nluminous here \ncan these hard \nlines \nthese \nseeming forever \nwalls \nbe continually \n“eased” “understood” \n“held” like a child \nI am dissatisfied \ncrying inside like \na wailing child \nor a crazy politician \ncan I remember \nwhat I said \nabove \nI am here \nmy fear my dissatisfaction \nis here also \nbut I am holding (embracing) it \nlike my own mother \nlike my own niece \nlike my own beloved lover \nI am not \nkilling my fear my dissatisfaction \nmy crying child \nI am embracing them \nbreathing a long side \nbelly and fear \nare not unrelated \nare they? \nForever \nsmile \nlaugh (to yourself – don’t let them \nknow you are crazy) \nI can even \nstart to \nthink of your \nbreathing your \nthinking \nyour pain \nas my relation \nalthough these sentences are calming \ncan you \nsit here \nfor a few seconds \nor a short time \nwithout reading \nthese sentences \njust sit here \nwith the satisfaction \nbreathing \nthen with the dissatisfaction \nbreathing \nthe pain of the \nworld is also \nyours \nsmile you are Good \ncontinue forever \nmake up your \nown writing your own \nsong of the open \nlet it in form us and \nyou \nhow to dance our \nloving meditating  \n  \n—Alan Benditt  \n* \n  \nMeditation\, it seems to me\, is like detox for the mind. Similar to the way our bodies need detoxing when we’ve indulged in too much for too long\, our minds can become saturated with noise to the point where an intervention is required. The remedy is the same for both the body and the mind: let go of the indulgence. Quit drinking. Quit thinking. Keep still.   \n  \nThe uncluttered awareness of the meditative mind reconnects us with the elemental beauty of life. Clarity returns. The painful sense of isolation diminishes.  How can we not feel gratitude for such an exquisite and accessible way to restore ourselves? \n  \n—Bill Faricy \n* \n  \nEveryone who meditates probably hears about some far-off experience called “enlightenment” that’s had only after years of heroic meditation sitting in a cave. When you read this verse\, you might think that’s what’s being described\, but I don’t think the author intended that. In a certain sense\, there’s something in us that’s always focused\, never distracted. It was working when you first opened your eyes this morning and looked out on your world. It was a wordless awareness that heard every thought you’ve had today\, and it monitored your heartbeat and your respiration when you were deeply asleep. If you look for it\, you can’t see it\, and you can’t say anything about it\, other than that it Is…. \n  \n—Andy Larkin \n* \n  \nIn meditation I was made aware of the fact that I have forgotten to smile…for quite a long time. In fact\, I have been unable (chosen not) to read\, think about\, write about\, many things. I have been unwilling to communicate in many ways\, including with myself\, or the larger consciousness. I feel a failure (no lectures\, please). Realizing that I had stopped taking my “smiling medicine\,” I became aware of a song I wrote as part of a song writing challenge here at DRCI a while back. I share the lyrics despite the fact that I believe that song lyrics often don’t translate well to silent poetry. So\, if any of you are “anti-rhymers”—read no further. Rhyme facilitates meter\, which combines in powerful ways with melody & harmony\, in my not so humble opinion. Maybe sometime I will be able to share this in its entirety\, it is the best advice I can offer myself & others. Thank you so much for The Open Road in both forms\, much anticipated\, highly appreciated. \n  \nLearning To Smile \n  \nWithout a smile\, I walk a mile \nSmilin’ just not my style \nI miss my friends\, I miss my wife \nI miss my outside life \n  \nBut there’s beauty to see \nAir to breathe \nThoughts to think and hear and be \n  \nA smile overcomes all grief and pain \nIt takes me home again \nSo I force a smile\, walk that mile \nSmilin’ might become my style \n  \nBecause there’s beauty to see \nAir to breathe \nThoughts to think and hear and be \n  \nSo\, check out this smile\, it’ll be here a while \nIt helps me through this trial \nMy spirit lifts\, the smile grips \nMy mood and won’t let go \n  \nSo there’s beauty to see \nAir to breathe \nThoughts to think and hear and be \n  \nI’m alive\, I’m headed home \nWhen I smile I’m free \n  \n—T. String Clements \n© 2019 \n* \n  \nGreetings to this worthy sangha….  \n  \nThere can be many ways to meditate\, but the paths all converge at the same goal. What is that goal?    \n  \nAn inner quietude\, an inner fortitude\, an inner gratitude\, an inner clarity\, an inner affection\, an affection both that we have tasted from others and from Nature\, and an affection that we have within us as a treasure to share with others. This manifests as universal good will. These are all primary indicators of successful meditation…. \n  \n  Sitting meditation is not for everyone.  Sometimes in the case of trauma survivors\, sitting and observing one’s thoughts can be too triggering.  The state and fruits of “Meditation” can be attained not only through sitting\, but also if done whole-heartedly through\, among others things – walking\, running\, dancing\, drawing\, singing\, cooking\, conversing\, writing\, communing with nature\, laughing\, sharing affection\, or simply taking a moment to feel comfortable in one’s own skin and feel open to what arises. Then the practice becomes to be prepared to treat everything which arises (within and without) with generosity\, uprightness\, patience\, enthusiasm\, concentration\, and  wisdom. \n  \nI invite and welcome any additions\, corrections\, questions or comments from the sangha. I will be happy to respond and continue the conversation. With Love and Best Wishes to all… \n  \n—Peter Oppenheimer \n* \n  \nMeditation and Mindfulness are simply the Art of paying attention. This is the most wonderful time of year\, when we can first take a walk outside after a cold winter and enjoy seeing the new life that comes\, without any need but the energy of life. The pink azaleas have bloomed\, and the magnificent magnolias. The ground is polka dotted after a wind with plum blossoms. This week on my son’s farm\, three sheep have given birth to one lamb each. Each one a surprise because their winter wool hides the mamas’ full bellies. Surprise and awe are two of the gifts of a happy life…. \n  \nLast week\, I went to Walla Walla to help take care of my grand kids while their parents worked there for a few days. It was joyful and freeing to be out after covid vaccines\, no masks necessary in the outdoors. The bare hills and the towering rock walls with giant wind mills are a huge contrast to our home landscape in Portland in the cedar trees and lush spring greens and reds of rhododendrons\, yellow tulips\, orange poppies.  I hadn’t been on I-84 going East for more than a year. The last time was visiting at Two Rivers. On our return we came past the prison. And I was filled with the feeling of being home and homesick at the same time. It was hard not to be able to come inside.  So we stopped\, went down to the river and I meditated with you\, just breathing the same air. Being at ease. And I pictured the banner that hangs in the trees at Plum Village when one arrives on retreat.  It blows gently in the breeze with Thay’s calligraphy that says\, “You have arrived. You are home.” It was a wonderful moment of being home.  We are always arriving\, right here\, right now. This was most refreshing\, and I felt grateful for having been welcomed there always\, in that magical\, loving dialogue group.    \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n* \n  \n white orchid \nWaxy petals unfurl slowly against the tropical earth pale insects burrow in drawn by fragrance escaping molecule by molecule through soft loam surrounding the tendril of whitened stem piercing soil branching off a flower then another creeping underground this life unseen unheeded above ground our life drawing sustenance from the dark explosion    \n  \n—Deborah Buchanan \n* \n  \nWalking is as simple as putting one foot in front of the other. But we often find it difficult or tedious. We drive a few blocks rather than walk in order to “save time.” When we understand the interconnectedness of our body and our mind\, the simple act of walking like the Buddha can feel supremely easy and pleasurable.  (Thich Nhat Hanh\, from Your True Home) \n  \nLet’s start with that first sentence: “Walking is as simple as putting one foot in front of the other.” I said I was not going to dwell on my foot surgery any longer\, but this short passage just spoke to me with force. \n  \nThis ‘recovery’ from a supposedly minor operation is taking much longer\, with a few more uncertain results possible\, than I was led to expect. Complications\, infection\, antibiotics\, more doctor appointments and different approaches have been accompanied by a range of emotions on my part. Eager anticipation\, determination\, trust\, puzzlement\, frustration\, doubt\, fear\, elation\, discouragement\, encouragement—you name it\, I’ve felt it. Acceptance hasn’t yet set in… \n  \nSo since February 25\, “walking is as simple as putting one foot in front of the other” has been a dream—and a mockery. I dream of the moment I can get my swollen foot into a shoe and then put one foot in front of the other\, but the result is that I treasure the thought of that simple act. Is that what it takes to treasure life? Why is it that we have such difficulty appreciating these present moments\, these simple acts\, and just hurry through them to get to the ‘next thing?’ \n  \nThe gift in all of this is that I have slowed down\, learned deep appreciation for the simple act of walking (and plenty of other things)\, learned thoughtfulness\, awareness and appreciation\, and come to cherish the interconnectedness of my mind and body\, which this situation has certainly amplified. \n  \nThay likes to invite people to smile and appreciate a non-toothache. A simple practice.  Thank you for reminding us. \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nTakes a heap of meaning to make a body happy \n  \nThere have been complaints these days about meaninglessness. \n  \nThe spiritual end of our civilization seems to have broken down. We were originally set up to be monotheistic\, and not polytheistic. The gods were banished and all space taken by Jehovah on his golden throne. That worked through the Middle Ages\, but the Industrial Revolution put a spoke in the wheel. Almost unnoticed\, the gods started coming back. \n  \nThere are those who would turn Jehovah out and bring the gods back. Monotheism\, polytheism\, whatever. The important thing is to live a meaningful spiritual life. But a lot of Christians\, Muslims and Jews are invested in monotheism\, which is the idea that if there is one god there can’t be many. Logic won’t allow it. Others say that religion needs to be founded on paradox\, in which case\, there can be one god or many\, depending on your visionary angle. \n  \n—Charles Erickson \n* \n  \nlet’s pretend \n  \ninstead of pretending that we are afraid \nthat we must improve \nthat we have enemies \nthat the future will arrive someday \n  \nlet’s pretend everything is sacred \npretend this is Paradise \npretend every moment is precious \npretend we love everyone \n  \npretend our joy knows no bounds \npretend we are the whole wide world \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nRhyming With Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \nOnce upon a cloudy day \na wandering poet lost his way \na busy yard-sale he passed by \ndrew him back\, he wondered why \nBrowsing through a battered trunk \nhe found a book by a Buddhist monk \nThich Nhat Hanh was the writer’s name \ninterconnection\, his basic game \nthe young man skimmed in search of clues \na garden of thoughts\, so many to choose \nthe path being offered was simple but steep \nand spelling that name\, a Grand Canyon leap… \n  \n—short excerpt from a poem by Nick Eldredge \n* \n  \nMindful \nEvery day \nI see or hear \nsomething \nthat more or less \n  \nkills me \nwith delight\, \nthat leaves me \nlike a needle \n  \nin the haystack \nof light. \nIt was what I was born for— \nto look\, to listen\, \n  \nto lose myself \ninside this soft world— \nto instruct myself \nover and over \n  \nin joy\, \nand acclamation. \nNor am I talking  \nabout the exceptional\, \n  \nthe fearful\, the dreadful\, \nthe very extravagant— \nbut of the ordinary\, \nthe common\, the very drab\, \n  \nthe daily presentations. \nOh\, good scholar\, \nI say to myself\, \nhow can you help \n  \nbut grow wise \nwith such teachings \nas these— \nthe untrimmable light \n  \nof the world\, \nthe ocean’s shine\, \nthe prayers that are made \nout of grass? \n  \n—poem by Mary Oliver\, shared by Ronni Lacroute \n* \n  \nThese days I practice my mindfulness most often out in nature where I’ve come to realize all things carry the same spark I carry in my own heart and each thing I observe becomes “the best part.” There are no saints…or sinners\, no self-righteous…no condemned\, everything is on equal terms. I’ve concluded not only do I belong to the human tribe\, I also belong to the life tribe\, and strive to conduct myself accordingly. \n  \nI thank all who have touched my life in such a positive\, kind\, and loving way—you now live in me! \n  \nAnd I will not forget you. \n  \nPeace and love \n—Abe Green \n* \n  \nYou are equally as beautiful as the universe. \n—tag on a Yogi Tea bag \n  \n(Friends on “the outside” can access the complete archive of Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogues on the Open Road website by clicking on “EVENTS.” Then\, keep clicking on “Previous Events.” You can also access the peace\, love\, happiness & understanding archive in this way.) URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-9-15-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210905T150000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210905T170000 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210904T231045Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210904T232715Z UID:2351-1630854000-1630861200@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: Women's Liberation!!! 9/5/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nBeloved Bibliophiles \n  \nFor Sunday\, September 5th at\, 3 pm\, the theme for our Zoom gathering is: WOMEN’S LIBERATION!!! We will talk about Women’s Literature\, and about Patriarchy\, Goddesses\, Women’s History\, Misogyny\, Mythology\, Spirituality\, et cetera. Here’s the link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/83135193074 \n  \nI hope to see you there. \n  \npeace\, love & liberation \n  \nJohnny URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-womens-liberation-9-5-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210902 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210916 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210902T154655Z LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T124834Z UID:2345-1630540800-1631750399@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 9/2/21 DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \n  \nInjustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality\, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. \n  \n—Martin Luther King\, “Letter from a Birmingham Jail\,” April 16\, 1963 \n  \n  \nSeptember 2\, 2021 \n  \n  \nWorld War II was the deadliest military conflict in history. An estimated 70-85 million people were killed in the war\, or died from war-related disease and famine. Of those who died\, it is estimated that 50-55 million were civilians. \n  \nNear the end of the war\, humans got together—in the hope of preventing future wars—and founded the United Nations. The idea is simple: use diplomacy\, rather than weapons\, to solve problems. In the original charter—which was adopted in June of 1945 and took effect in October of that year—the member nations took on some other big jobs\, in addition to maintaining peace: protecting human rights\, delivering humanitarian aid\, promoting sustainable development\, and upholding international law. At present\, the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) says there are 82.4 million “forcibly displaced people” on our planet. The United Nations is the primary organization which provides food\, shelter\, clothing\, safety and medical care for refugees\, and helps them to find a permanent home. \n  \nOne of the most important achievements of the United Nations is the creation\, in 1948\, of the Universal Declaration of Human rights. I like to read it from time to time. These are our legally established rights—yours\, mine\, everyones!: \n  \n  \nUniversal Declaration of Human Rights \n  \nThe Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR)  is a milestone document in the history of human rights. Drafted by representatives with different legal and cultural backgrounds from all regions of the world\, the Declaration was proclaimed by the United Nations General Assembly in Paris on 10 December 1948 as a common standard of achievements for all peoples and all nations. It sets out\, for the first time\, fundamental human rights to be universally protected and it has been translated into over 500 languages. The UDHR is widely recognized as having inspired\, and paved the way for\, the adoption of more than seventy human rights treaties\, applied today on a permanent basis at global and regional levels (all containing references to it in their preambles).  \n  \nPreamble \nWhereas recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom\, justice and peace in the world\, \nWhereas disregard and contempt for human rights have resulted in barbarous acts which have outraged the conscience of mankind\, and the advent of a world in which human beings shall enjoy freedom of speech and belief and freedom from fear and want has been proclaimed as the highest aspiration of the common people\, \nWhereas it is essential\, if man is not to be compelled to have recourse\, as a last resort\, to rebellion against tyranny and oppression\, that human rights should be protected by the rule of law\, \nWhereas it is essential to promote the development of friendly relations between nations\, \nWhereas the peoples of the United Nations have in the Charter reaffirmed their faith in fundamental human rights\, in the dignity and worth of the human person and in the equal rights of men and women and have determined to promote social progress and better standards of life in larger freedom\, \nWhereas Member States have pledged themselves to achieve\, in co-operation with the United Nations\, the promotion of universal respect for and observance of human rights and fundamental freedoms\, \nWhereas a common understanding of these rights and freedoms is of the greatest importance for the full realization of this pledge\, \nNow\, therefore\, \nThe General Assembly\, \nProclaims this Universal Declaration of Human Rights as a common standard of achievement for all peoples and all nations\, to the end that every individual and every organ of society\, keeping this Declaration constantly in mind\, shall strive by teaching and education to promote respect for these rights and freedoms and by progressive measures\, national and international\, to secure their universal and effective recognition and observance\, both among the peoples of Member States themselves and among the peoples of territories under their jurisdiction.  \n  \nArticle 1 \nAll human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood. \n  \nArticle 2 \nEveryone is entitled to all the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration\, without distinction of any kind\, such as race\, colour\, sex\, language\, religion\, political or other opinion\, national or social origin\, property\, birth or other status. Furthermore\, no distinction shall be made on the basis of the political\, jurisdictional or international status of the country or territory to which a person belongs\, whether it be independent\, trust\, non-self-governing or under any other limitation of sovereignty. \n  \nArticle 3 \nEveryone has the right to life\, liberty and security of person. \n  \nArticle 4 \nNo one shall be held in slavery or servitude; slavery and the slave trade shall be prohibited in all their forms. \n  \nArticle 5 \nNo one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel\, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment. \n  \nArticle 6 \nEveryone has the right to recognition everywhere as a person before the law. \n  \nArticle 7 \nAll are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law. All are entitled to equal protection against any discrimination in violation of this Declaration and against any incitement to such discrimination. \n  \nArticle 8 \nEveryone has the right to an effective remedy by the competent national tribunals for acts violating the fundamental rights granted him by the constitution or by law. \n  \nArticle 9 \nNo one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest\, detention or exile. \n  \nArticle 10 \nEveryone is entitled in full equality to a fair and public hearing by an independent and impartial tribunal\, in the determination of his rights and obligations and of any criminal charge against him. \n  \nArticle 11 \n\nEveryone charged with a penal offence has the right to be presumed innocent until proved guilty according to law in a public trial at which he has had all the guarantees necessary for his defence.\nNo one shall be held guilty of any penal offence on account of any act or omission which did not constitute a penal offence\, under national or international law\, at the time when it was committed. Nor shall a heavier penalty be imposed than the one that was applicable at the time the penal offence was committed.\n\n  \nArticle 12 \nNo one shall be subjected to arbitrary interference with his privacy\, family\, home or correspondence\, nor to attacks upon his honour and reputation. Everyone has the right to the protection of the law against such interference or attacks. \n  \nArticle 13 \n\nEveryone has the right to freedom of movement and residence within the borders of each state.\nEveryone has the right to leave any country\, including his own\, and to return to his country.\n\n  \nArticle 14 \n\nEveryone has the right to seek and to enjoy in other countries asylum from persecution.\nThis right may not be invoked in the case of prosecutions genuinely arising from non-political crimes or from acts contrary to the purposes and principles of the United Nations.\n\n  \nArticle 15 \n\nEveryone has the right to a nationality.\nNo one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his nationality nor denied the right to change his nationality.\n\n  \nArticle 16 \n\nMen and women of full age\, without any limitation due to race\, nationality or religion\, have the right to marry and to found a family. They are entitled to equal rights as to marriage\, during marriage and at its dissolution.\nMarriage shall be entered into only with the free and full consent of the intending spouses.\nThe family is the natural and fundamental group unit of society and is entitled to protection by society and the State.\n\n  \nArticle 17 \n\nEveryone has the right to own property alone as well as in association with others.\nNo one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his property.\n\n  \nArticle 18 \nEveryone has the right to freedom of thought\, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief\, and freedom\, either alone or in community with others and in public or private\, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching\, practice\, worship and observance. \n  \nArticle 19 \nEveryone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek\, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers. \n  \nArticle 20 \n\nEveryone has the right to freedom of peaceful assembly and association.\nNo one may be compelled to belong to an association.\n\n  \nArticle 21 \n\nEveryone has the right to take part in the government of his country\, directly or through freely chosen representatives.\nEveryone has the right of equal access to public service in his country.\nThe will of the people shall be the basis of the authority of government; this will shall be expressed in periodic and genuine elections which shall be by universal and equal suffrage and shall be held by secret vote or by equivalent free voting procedures.\n\n  \nArticle 22 \nEveryone\, as a member of society\, has the right to social security and is entitled to realization\, through national effort and international co-operation and in accordance with the organization and resources of each State\, of the economic\, social and cultural rights indispensable for his dignity and the free development of his personality. \n  \nArticle 23 \n\nEveryone has the right to work\, to free choice of employment\, to just and favourable conditions of work and to protection against unemployment.\nEveryone\, without any discrimination\, has the right to equal pay for equal work.\nEveryone who works has the right to just and favourable remuneration ensuring for himself and his family an existence worthy of human dignity\, and supplemented\, if necessary\, by other means of social protection.\nEveryone has the right to form and to join trade unions for the protection of his interests.\n\n  \nArticle 24 \nEveryone has the right to rest and leisure\, including reasonable limitation of working hours and periodic holidays with pay. \n  \nArticle 25 \n\nEveryone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family\, including food\, clothing\, housing and medical care and necessary social services\, and the right to security in the event of unemployment\, sickness\, disability\, widowhood\, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control.\nMotherhood and childhood are entitled to special care and assistance. All children\, whether born in or out of wedlock\, shall enjoy the same social protection.\n\n  \nArticle 26 \n\nEveryone has the right to education. Education shall be free\, at least in the elementary and fundamental stages. Elementary education shall be compulsory. Technical and professional education shall be made generally available and higher education shall be equally accessible to all on the basis of merit.\nEducation shall be directed to the full development of the human personality and to the strengthening of respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms. It shall promote understanding\, tolerance and friendship among all nations\, racial or religious groups\, and shall further the activities of the United Nations for the maintenance of peace.\nParents have a prior right to choose the kind of education that shall be given to their children.\n\n  \nArticle 27 \n\nEveryone has the right freely to participate in the cultural life of the community\, to enjoy the arts and to share in scientific advancement and its benefits.\nEveryone has the right to the protection of the moral and material interests resulting from any scientific\, literary or artistic production of which he is the author.\n\n  \nArticle 28 \nEveryone is entitled to a social and international order in which the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration can be fully realized. \n  \nArticle 29 \n\nEveryone has duties to the community in which alone the free and full development of his personality is possible.\nIn the exercise of his rights and freedoms\, everyone shall be subject only to such limitations as are determined by law solely for the purpose of securing due recognition and respect for the rights and freedoms of others and of meeting the just requirements of morality\, public order and the general welfare in a democratic society.\nThese rights and freedoms may in no case be exercised contrary to the purposes and principles of the United Nations.\n\n  \nArticle 30 \nNothing in this Declaration may be interpreted as implying for any State\, group or person any right to engage in any activity or to perform any act aimed at the destruction of any of the rights and freedoms set forth herein. \n  \n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-9-2-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210822T150000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210822T170000 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210821T230513Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210821T230708Z UID:2333-1629644400-1629651600@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous! 8/22/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nBeloved Bibliophiles! \n  \nOn Sunday\, August 22\, at 3 pm (PDT) the theme for our Zoom gathering is: \nWhat Do You Read? How Do You Read? & Why Do You Read? \n  \nHere’s the link:   \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/83135193074 \n  \nShould be fun! \nI hope to see you there. \n  \npeace & love   \nJohnny \n  \n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-8-22-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210819 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210903 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210821T175015Z LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T124417Z UID:2323-1629331200-1630627199@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 8/19/21 DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \nAugust 19\, 2021 \n  \nThou shalt not kill. \n  \n—God \n* \n  \nIn this world \nHate never yet dispelled hate. \nOnly love dispels hate. \nThis is the law\, \nAncient and inexhaustible. \n  \n—Buddha \n* \n  \nWhy\, of course\, the people don’t want war. Why would some poor slob on a farm want to risk his life in a war when the best that he can get out of it is to come back to his farm in one piece? Naturally\, the common people don’t want war; neither in Russia nor in England nor in America\, nor for that matter in Germany. That is understood. But\, after all\, it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along\, whether it is a democracy or a fascist dictatorship or a Parliament or a Communist dictatorship….All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same way in any country. \n  \n—Hermann Göring \n* \n  \nWar: What is it good for? \nAbsolutely nothin’!…. \nPeace\, love and understanding\, tell me \nIs there no place for them today? \nThey say we must fight to keep our freedom \nBut lord knows there’s got to be a better way. \n  \n—from the song “War\,” written by Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong \n* \n  \nEvery month\, Michel Deforge sends me between 8 and 16 pages from his meditation journal\, from which I select some excerpts for the monthly Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue. For this issue of peace\, love\, happiness & understanding\, I want to reply to his entry for July 6th. In it\, he responds to Kim Stafford’s poem “Old Glory’s New Red\, Black\, and Blue\,” from his book Singer Come from Afar and refers to Charles Busch’s “A Promise to Our Children.” Here’s what Michel wrote: \n  \nJuly 6\, 2021   OLD GLORY’S NEW RED\, BLACK\, AND BLUE—KIM STAFFORD \n  \nYesterday I struggled with lethargy and lost. During a few spare lucid moments\, I pondered my July 4 thoughts\, Kim’s poem\, and the poem Johnny shared in the June edition of THE OPEN ROAD—A PROMISE TO OUR CHILDREN. I’ll pause while you review the poems (or Johnny may re-share). \n  \n[I’ll include Kim’s poem later. For “A Promise to Our Children\,” see the June 24th issue of peace\, love\, happiness & understanding. Kim introduced me to Charles Busch\, from Fields of Peace. In his letter\, he gives the names and ages of 69 Palestinian and Israeli children who had been recently killed. He suggests that people make this promise: \n  \nI will not be a part of the killing \nof any child\, \nno matter how lofty the reason. \nNot my neighbor’s child. \nNot my child. \nNot the enemy’s child. \nNot by bomb. Not by bullet. \nNot by looking the other way. \nI will be the power that is peace. \n  \nAnd now\, back to Michel’s journal…] \n  \nI am definitely not for changing the flag; yet\, there is something there we could get a spinnin’ round about over as we explore the idea. Does the Red\, White and Blue still mean what it did 245 (!!) years ago? Does it still need to\, or can we find new meanings\, new depth\, or do we even care to look? \n  \nI don’t know that my thoughts solidified toward any one direction\, other than to want to get something down before I forget and move on to bigger prizes\, if any exist. I definitely do not want to be party to killing any child\, “no matter how lofty the reason.” At the same time I see myself as impotent to act\, powerless to affect change (even the faintest glimpse of a beginning). That letter [“To the Mothers and Fathers of Palestine and Israel”] said more\, in a more eloquent manner\, than I could hope to muster. All I could do was cry for the loss of all those precious children. And what about the ones who think they’re “all grown up” just because they’ve passed through a myriad of solar-year cycles? (Johnny still sees the child in each of us! How could we imagine these little boys and girls going to play at war being any different? They’re still mommy’s and daddy’s little bundle of joy; they’re still mourned when shot or killed or bombed or stabbed.) \n  \nAnd then my mind drifts to all the little boys and little girls playing at being grown-ups. Having babies of their own as babies themselves. Or\, heaven forbid\, falling victim to the drug dealing predators—(who\, by the way\, are still somebody’s little boys or girls)—or the lure of sex and/or alcohol. Each one a precious being. Sometimes killed by bullets of war and hate\, sometimes for other “lofty reasons.” Sometimes by their simple naïveté. \n  \nWhat can any of us do more than we do already? More laws won’t help. Look at the “War on Drugs\,” or “against gang violence”? No victories there. \n  \nI saw an advert for a show coming up where the brewery hired Bloods and Crips to work at the same factory and participate in the same “program”. I think it was a success\, for some; thus\, the show. Is it a cause for hope? Do we (I) have grounds to look for hope in prison\, as well as for life post-prison? May it be so\, a thousandfold! \n  \nAnd so I part\, once again\, with more pain reviewed and few answers to eschew\, having just re-read Kim’s OLD GLORY’S NEW RED\, BLACK\, AND BLUE. (It leads to rhyming.) As I go\, I still can’t help but wonder: What can I do\, where do I fit in? Am I fodder for the cannons of the nightly news\, or some other “frontline” war on humanity’s failings and weaknesses? I don’t rightly know. \n  \nWhat about you? Where do you fit in? To my world or my life—better yet\, to our world and our lives—each one of them does MATTER! It’s not something to frame a political slogan or program around. How do we pursue an end of killing children for any reason—lofty or not? \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \nI’d like to say a few words to Michel\, and to whoever else is reading this\, about pacifism. I became a pacifist while I was in high school. It was simple: I didn’t want to kill anyone. (And I didn’t want to hire other people to kill for me\, or on my behalf.) It seemed wrong to me that I was required by law to join an organization whose purpose was to kill people.  \n  \nI think most people are already “almost pacifists.” They know that in war lots of people are killed and that is somehow “bad.” But\, many people would add\, “Sometimes it’s necessary.” In order to avoid some arguments\, I say that I am not for or against any past wars. They are over. It’s absurd to protest against something that has already happened. I am against all present and future wars. Anyone got a problem with that? \n  \n(Here is an interesting statistic from the Fields of Peace website\, fieldsofpeace.org: During World War I\, the ratio of soldier to civilian deaths was 9 to 1. In World War II\, it was 1 to 1. In today’s wars\, for every soldier killed\, nine civilians are killed. Most of them are children. Watch the two-minute video on the Home Page.)   \n  \n(Strictly speaking\, a pacifist is not necessarily opposed to all acts of violence\, just organized\, large-scale killing: war.) \n  \nMichel\, I think that if you weren’t already a pacifist\, you became one in the act of pondering and writing your journal entry. You say: \n  \nI definitely do not want to be party to killing any child\, “no matter how lofty the reason.” \n  \nThat’s all it takes. You’re in the club. Welcome. \n  \nIt’s a fun club to be in. Kim and I are in it. Kim’s dad William is in it. Their friend and neighbor Hideo Hashimoto is in it. The Dalai Lama is in it. So is Jesus. And Martin Luther King and Coretta Scott King and Mahatma Gandhi and Leo Tolstoy and Helen Keller and Dorothy Day and Albert Einstein and Bertrand Russell and Sigmund Freud and Helen Caldicott and Alice Walker and Howard Thoresen and Alan Benditt and Thich Nhat Hanh… It’s quite a long list. Made up mostly of people whose names we don’t know. \n  \nIn his poem\, Kim refers to the problem of war and violence\, but the primary focus is on questions raised by the Black Lives Matter movement of injustice and systemic racism. His poem is both playful and serious. It is the job of wise people to encourage us to perform thought experiments\, to challenge things we take for granted\, to imagine in new ways. Here’s the poem: \n  \nOld Glory’s New Red\, Black\, and Blue \n  \nCue the anthem\, slide down the flag \nthat flew through World Wars I and II\, \nthen assailed Korea\, Vietnam\, Afghanistan\, Iraq\, \nand now a hundred nameless places where drones \nlook down on weddings to seek out villains known \nor guessed—old wars and new\, the flag flown high \nto woo our crew to action for our banner blue\, our \ndevotion true—until money tattered it as inequality \ngrew\, and drew us\, first a few\, then more\, to view \nin new light the plain hue of white one clue \na change was due—so beat the drum’s \ntattoo and raise anew our flag \nof red\, black\, and blue. \n  \nSunset red\, shadows blue and black\, indigo \nand scarlet deja vu when dew falls heavy \nin the grass to strew starlight in diamonds \nthrough the dusk. No stew of sorrow at our \nrendezvous. No one to misconstrue this change \nas anything but patriotic on the avenue of many colors \nhitherto passed over when some hullabaloo\, some retinue \nof old privilege and this fresh generation’s overview \nbegan to see a world askew and must eschew \nold privations and renew our love of freedom \nto pursue our happiness and make taboo how \ncertain citizens because of color were subdued\, \nso bring forth now the red\, black\, and blue. \n  \nBrew a bold libation\, fire up the barbecue\, \nand offer feasting cordon bleu to celebrate \nwhat no judicial revue\, no internal revenue\, no \nvoodoo Waterloo from here to Timbuktu can make \nuntrue\, what no zoo of caged freedoms can deny \nsome citizens have been held second class in lieu \nof rights by law but yet false in fact. We say \nadieu to that. We’re all in one canoe\, our ship \nof state that flies the banner red\, black\, and blue. \n  \nNow we must interview each other\, give our leaders \none stern talking-to\, root out each residue of prejudice\, \noutdo old talk with questions and with follow-through\, \nhew the righteous line and find in black all colors joined\, \nall ethnicities of shade and blend and flavor\, so may good \naccrue. For we were gathered from one Genesis when God \nthrew galaxies together spinning with diversity beaucoup. \nIn keeping with that old creation\, we must now imbue \nour politics (that have been one big bugaboo) with kindness \nto us all at last\, undo each miscue that slew our honor \nso may ensue a tart fondue of plenty. We stir \nthe roux of flavors in our bold debut: Old Glory \ndressed up now in red\, black\, and blue. \n  \nBlue and black—this the color of a bruise: no news \nto those who made the Blues\, and something no-one could \nconfuse with anything but hurt. So set the Statue of Liberty \nat Standing Rock to face down opposition to democracy\, \nwealth flowing corrosive through pipes of steel to spew \ninto the river collateral trouble for the Water Keepers \nwho knew Pilgrims were first refugees\, seeking freedom \nfor faith first welcome to these shores. Does our dream \narc toward justice still? Can we call that effort true\, \nsupreme\, or is our legacy sunk to pay-per-view? \nWe must fly the red\, the black\, and blue. \n  \nThis mighty woman\, mother of exiles with a torch \nwho lifts her lamp beside the golden door shall dress \nher copper in these colors now to call this century’s \nhuddled masses in. Her beacon-hand reveals that \nat our best we are the watershed where myriad \nstreams are harvested\, rivulets gathered into one: \nAsian\, Eurasian\, African\, Bedouin\, Islander\, Blue- \nBlood Black\, and every lovely shade of brown\, \nfrom dark dusk to sand\, and every hue of Wanderer \nor Fugitive from darkness seeking light\, every Indian \nto this ground restored by right\, for this we fight\, \nfor this democracy our aspiration’s light\, for this \nto be true\, we will pledge allegiance now \nto the red\, the black\, the blue. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nHere’s a link to Edwin Starr’s 1969 version of “War”: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=01-2pNCZiNk \n  \nAnd in 1985\, The Boss: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mn91L9goKfQ \n  \n  \nPeace\, love and understanding \n  \n—Johnny URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-8-19-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210815 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210915 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210819T144318Z LAST-MODIFIED:20211130T003118Z UID:2319-1628985600-1631663999@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue 8/15/21 DESCRIPTION:photo by Abe Green \n  \n  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \n August 15\, 2021 \n  \nThe purpose of life is to know yourself\, love yourself\, trust yourself\, and be yourself. \n—tag on a Yogi Tea bag \n* \n  \n7/15/21 \n#222 A Very Naive Idea \n  \n“Many people aspire to go to a place where pain and suffering do not exist\, a place where there is only happiness. This is a rather dangerous idea\, for compassion is not possible without pain and suffering.” (from Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh) \n  \nWe don’t want to invite suffering\, but ideally we learn to welcome suffering when it enters our lives. If we live our lives fearfully avoiding suffering and pain\, we live a very limited existence. Living too carefully\, never risking pain\, failure\, unhappiness or loss cannot result in a full and fulfilling life. It results in a careful life; that is not enough for me. \n  \nSuffering bonds you to others in a deep\, rich\, long-lasting way. My first marriage of thirteen years was frightening\, abusive and dehumanizing\, and that is how I emerged. I still have scars\, but resilience and determination (and the specter of poverty) were more powerful motivators than continuing in a fearful\, cautious life. \n  \nThe gift of suffering was that I deeply\, instinctively care for others\, all others who suffer\, in any way\, not just in situations similar to mine. I have the three gifts that come from suffering: compassion\, understanding\, and love. That is the richness that comes from suffering. My heart is full. \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \n(Ronni Lacroute sent this poem by Mary Oliver:) \n  \nMindful \n  \nEvery day \nI see or hear \nsomething \nthat more or less \n  \nkills me \nwith delight\, \nthat leaves me \nlike a needle \n  \nin the haystack \nof light. \nIt was what I was born for— \nto look\, to listen\, \n  \nto lose myself \ninside this soft world— \nto instruct myself \nover and over \n  \nin joy\, \nand acclamation. \nNor am I talking  \nabout the exceptional\, \n  \nthe fearful\, the dreadful\, \nthe very extravagant— \nbut of the ordinary\, \nthe common\, the very drab\, \n  \nthe daily presentations. \nOh\, good scholar\, \nI say to myself\, \nhow can you help \n  \nbut grow wise \nwith such teachings \nas these— \nthe untrimmable light \n  \nof the world\, \nthe ocean’s shine\, \nthe prayers that are made \nout of grass? \n  \n—Mary Oliver \n* \n  \n(These are some excerpts from Michel’s meditation journal. The numbers refer to Thich Nhat Hanh’s book Your True Home.) \n  \nJuly 4\, 2021  Independence Day \n  \n….Today is a day to celebrate freedom. Yet\, how many of us are truly FREE? I really wonder: Must one be trapped in a concrete cage\, behind locked doors\, shut away from the rest of the world and forgotten to become un-free? No. Freedom can be lost\, taken away\, and given away from and by anyone outside of prison or within the box. In fact\, I’m not thinking of a prison for the body\, but one created within a mind\, and a tyranny not from others\, or perpetuated by “others\,” but of one from a tyrant within… \n  \nMany are prisoners of the mind. Some are as of yet unaware of the plight they face. Some have lost their focus—mistaking a tyranny from within for an external enmity. Each of us has a mind. Do we feed it? Exercise it wisely? Take it out to play? to learn? to exercise\, face challenges as it grows?…. \n  \nJuly 8\, 2021   #159 A Healing Mantra \n  \nIf we share compassion through a positive gesture/action\, to express being fully present (mindful) we can uplift another from his or her pit of despair to find a stable footing from which to move forward. We may also need to say such things to our own self. When I’m down or struggling\, there isn’t always a bodhisattva nearby to offer compassionate words. I can be that supporter of myself simply through positive self-talk…. \n  \nJuly 15\, 2021  #166 A Real Friendship \n  \nMay I offer that in learning to love self and/or other\, the key is to see the line of separation vanish. I’ve heard\, “Love your neighbor as yourself\,” and struggled due to lack (I thought) of ability to love myself. Lately a thought is percolating that if I stop seeing you as separate and apart from me\, but begin to see our inter-connectedness\, or our inter-dependency\, then I can learn to demonstrate love to both (in different ways). \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \nHappy early 70th birthday! As my present to you\, I’ve written a poem in your honor: \n  \nAFTER \n  \nAnd you may find that you have nothing \nto say\, and that’s okay. The bird \n  \nyou pictured now because that’s the way \nthe brain works \n  \nand the concentric circles of its song— \nthey are always there. Jung defined \n  \nthe unconscious as everything \nyou have forgotten\, everything \n  \nyou’re not currently thinking about\, \nand everything you do not know. \n  \nThat narrows it down. \nSo the conscious mind is really \n  \nonly very little of what goes on— \nlike a lightbulb compared to the dawn. \n  \n—Alex Tretbar \n* \n  \nAugust 11\, 2021 \n  \nI’m turning 70 next Tuesday\, August 17th. It doesn’t seem possible! How did I get so old? It seems like just last week I was 19. What happened? \n  \nMaybe the reason getting older is bewildering is that our body ages\, but something inside us doesn’t. Whoever it is\, or whatever it is that looks out through my eyes—and even observes my thoughts!—hasn’t aged a bit! \n  \nI’m enjoying my human life on Earth! I didn’t make a plan. I’ve been meandering along like the half-wit third son in the fairy tales who somehow ends up with the princess\, thanks to help he got from a magic toad. (My dad once said to me: “John\, if anyone says you’re a wit\, they’d be half right.”) \n  \nI’ve been (and still am) very fortunate. (On another occasion\, my dad said: “John\, if you fell into a ditch\, you’d come up with the deed to the town.”) I suppose the greatest good fortune was that I got hefty amounts of love and encouragement when I was a little boy.  \n  \nWhen I got a little older\, instead of going to Vietnam to kill people\, I went to India to study meditation and mindfulness from wise yogis. That was lucky. \n  \nIt was my good fortune to come of age in the Hippie Era. Had I been born ten years earlier\, I might have become a beatnik! Hippies were into Peace & Love. That sounded good to me. Still does. Flower power! \n  \nFinding Nancy Scharbach was unexpected. More Good Fortune!  \n  \nAbout the same time we got together\, I wandered into a prison. I met a lot of lovely people there. We had long talks. We put on plays. We had great times together! I still have lots of friends in prison. We write to each other. I have friends who have graduated from prison\, who I can see on the outside. \n  \nI have lots of friends! If you’re reading this\, you are probably one of them. \n  \nI have much much more to be grateful for. Too much to try to describe here. And fresh blessings arrive every day\, without fail. I’m grateful that I feel grateful. I’m happy that I’m happy. I love loving and being loved. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \n                          Your Walden \n  \nFor some\, only sleep is the hut by moonlight\,  \nsleep the pond pure and still\, sleep the essential  \nrefuge for solitary rumination\, the secret escape \nfrom quiet desperations that each day crowd your breath\,  \ndim your vision\, narrow your hope. Others find a porch \nand sit\, composed\, or a tree to muse in shade\, or a hilltop\,  \nhigher than wires and roads\, to look far\, kindling the power  \nto simplify\, to transcend\, if only for a moment. \n  \nYou learned the hard way your soul is green and withers\,  \nstarving without some touch to wood\, earth\, and silence. You \ntook the crash course in complexity for years and years. So now \nyou find a place separate from screen and machine\, a place  \nbeyond getting and spending\, a space to let the buried eden  \nof the wild self bud and blossom. You take your Walden—call it  \nringer-off\, screen asleep\, brass keys all banished to the drawer— \nso at last you may dawn into yourself\, deliberate\, and awake. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nI love where I now live (North Central Montana)\, it’s where I grew up. I understand it in ways that elude those not from here\, and though the land and its people can be difficult\, it is also magnificently beautiful and allows me access to a natural world I’ve not found elsewhere. \n  \nWhat is often missing here though is my ability to engage in the kind of conversations that challenge me\, expand me\, and support me as I journey away from a spiritually vacuous “self” toward enlightenment. \n  \nThat’s why “The Open Road” is such a precious gift—I feel I belong to this wonderful community of thinkers and explorers. I continue to have struggles and setbacks\, but with each letter I breathe in a freshness that renews my desire to be a better human\, to care and to really see myself in others and they in me. \n  \nAnd it is getting easier! \n  \nI savor all the writings\, but especially by those I personally know. An excellent example is String Clements “Learning to Smile.” I shared the incentive yard at TRCI with String and many a day we practiced mindfulness as we walked the track. (Remember General Sherman\, Tim?) \n  \nThese days I practice my mindfulness most often out in nature where I’ve come to realize all things carry the same spark I carry in my own heart and each thing I observe becomes “the best part.” There are no saints…or sinners\, no self-righteous…no condemned\, everything is on equal terms. I’ve concluded not only do I belong to the human tribe\, I also belong to the life tribe\, and strive to conduct myself accordingly. I’d like to add that mindfulness can be practiced anywhere (as Mr. Clements and I proved at TRCI). Most difficult for me is just getting my mind to “shut up” and listen. \n  \nHere are a few thoughts: \n  \n* Life will always challenge you. The trick is to polish all  the moments to make them shine. That’s both sides of the coin\, not just the pretty or easy ones. Each moment\, each day is precious and should never be wasted or cast aside. \n—Anne Burke quote from Salt of the Earth by Ethan Hubbard \n  \n* Walk in good direction\, come to good place. \n  \n*Only for a time have we borrowed our life from the sum of things. \n  \n* Let go of expectations and accept whatever shows up for you. \n—Katie Radditz \n  \nI thank all who have touched my life in such a positive\, kind\, and loving way—you now live in me! \n  \nAnd I will not forget you. \n  \nPeace and love \n  \nAbe Green  2021 \n  \n(Abe added this:) \n  \nPaul Enso Hillman spoke these words: \n  \nI say “Namaste” because I like what it means\, not because I’m a Hindu. \n  \nA lot of people think I’m a Christian because they think I talk about Christian values\, but the truth is I’m really talking about Human values. \n  \nI’ve been asked if I’m a Buddhist just because I’ve discovered inner Peace. \n  \nA lot of my friends are Pagans and they think I’m one also because I say that being in nature is my idea of going to church. \n  \nDo you want to know what I really am? \n  \nIt’s very simple\, I don’t need a label to define me. \n  \nI am a piece of the universe\, sentient and manifested and… \n  \nI am awake! \n  \n—Abe Green \n* \n  \nAugust 15\, 2021 \nMeditation and Mindfulness \nHAPPY BIRTHDAY\, JOHNNY!!! \n  \nLast month I sent in a topic on Suffering\, but I forgot to include the attachment in the email to Johnny. He said\, “No worries\, I’ll just put it in the August edition.” But then I thought\, how lame to offer a writing on Suffering for Johnny’s very special birthday edition. It really should be something more in keeping with Johnny’s true raison d’être: LOVE! \n  \nSo # 326 – Equanimity  – fills the bill to perfection. \n  \n“True love does not choose one person. When true love is there\, you shine like a lamp. You don’t just shine on one person in the room. That light you emit is for everyone in the room. If you really have love in you\, everyone around you will benefit—not only humans\, but animals\, plants\, and minerals. Love\, true love\, is that.True love is equanimity.” \n  \nThis is Johnny. This is what Johnny emits. His love just spreads out\, sometimes to the bewilderment (how can he be so patient with that guy???)\, the embarrassment (uh oh\, here come the tears again!)\, the frustration (can’t he see that that guy really doesn’t deserve love?) of others. That is Johnny: He just loves with equanimity and abandon. \n  \nJude Russell \n* \n  \nEvery moment offers a myriad of wonders\, opportunities and insights – it is just a matter of how and what we focus our attention on\, and how we perceive it.  – John Kabat Zinn  \n  \nMy friend Sarah has been feeling disheartened lately – about the state of our Earth’s health\, the continuing pandemic\, and her small role in life. She is a generous and engaged person. Her daughter has moved nearby and Sarah loves being with her new grandchild. Her wishes have been fulfilled. But after such high expectations\, the question of what is her purpose in life set in. She remembers what her mother once told her\, “Remember it’s not the big things that count\, it’s the small things.” There will always be the big issues looming. It is a challenge to be engaged in helping to change the world for the better. Meditation can help by training us to focus on our personal small moments of happiness\, compassion\, and healing.   \n  \nIf we choose to rush or force meditation\, we might not experience much or have many great moments.  \n  \nBut by allowing ourselves to be curious\, inquisitive\, attentive and have an open mind\, we can make those small moments wonderful.  \n  \nI have been reading a classic Sufi book called The Conference of the Birds. It is full of parables about taking a spiritual journey. My friend was listening to a CD of chanting and birds flew to his deck to listen. As soon as the music ended the birds flew off. Another friend had two birds come sit on her balcony when she moved into a new apartment. It helped to ease her loneliness and to help her make a transition. These moments that are particular to us can help move us in a direction of paying attention\, of being engaged inwardly as well as outwardly\, and of loving the beauty of the world. It can make us grateful for being alive.    \n  \nI have been enjoying reading and studying The Conference of the Birds along with my friends who had the birds magically visit them. I have also been paying attention to the gifts of feathers that my neighbors—blue jays\, wild turkeys\, crows\, wrens\, even the chickens—have left in my yard and along the paths that I walk. I find one almost every day and have a collection now in my garden flower bed. These are small moments and small tokens that make me joyous to feel the “interbeing” that Thay instructs us to realize. It makes me happy to be alive here and now\, and to share this with whoever comes my way. Gratitude is a strong mindfulness practice for beginning and ending the day.   \n  \nThis morning Sarah sent me a text saying she is paying attention to the birds too! She wrote\, “I’m enjoying migrations!”  \n  \nWhat can be a small moment for some\, can be the single most important moment in another person’s life.  \n  \nHow about you? Do you sometimes see big things in small moments?  \n  \nMay you be aware and happy in some small moments today.  Thank you for being a part of  our mindfulness group and sharing your own experiences here. Below is a poem by Kim’s dad\, William Stafford.   \n  \nBe well and know peace\,  Katie  \n  \nThings I Learned Last Week \n  \nAnts\, when they meet each other\, \nusually pass on the right. \n  \nSometimes you can open a sticky \ndoor with your elbow. \n  \nA man in Boston has dedicated himself \nto telling about injustice. \nFor three thousand dollars he will \ncome to your town and tell you about it. \n  \nSchopenhauer was a pessimist but \nhe played the flute. \n  \nYeats\, Pound\, and Eliot saw art as \ngrowing from other art. They studied that. \n  \nIf I ever die\, I’d like it to be \nin the evening. That way\, I’ll have \nall the dark to go with me\, and no one \nwill see how I begin to hobble along. \n  \nIn the Pentagon one person’s job is to \ntake pins out of towns\, hills\, and fields\, \nand then save the pins for later. \n  \n—William Stafford \n* \n  \n8-10-21 \n  \nGot your letter today: “The Golden World!” I needed to hear that more than you know\, Johnny. I need to come home and it’s nice to know & remember that I can come home & how good home is. I was so focused on what was lost that I lost track of what I have & what I have is pretty damn good. In fact\, what I lost I loved very much\, but what I have now is very much here & not lost & that right now is life & life must be lived\, now\, loved and grown. Sometimes I wish that you would have been my father\, Johnny\, & in many ways you have been. \n  \nThe Golden World is real. I forgot about it. It should be shared with the world. It will make all the world a better place. I’m done being in misery….I’m on my way home. \n  \n—Rocky Hutchinson URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-8-15-21/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/0-30.jpeg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210808T150000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210808T170000 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210807T215000Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210807T215139Z UID:2307-1628434800-1628442000@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: Poetry Corner 8/8/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nBeloved Bibliophiles! \n  \nPOETRY CORNER is our theme for our Zoom gathering on Sunday\, August 8\, at 3 pm (PDT). Here’s the link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/83135193074 \n  \nBring some of your favorite poems and read them to us! \n  \npeace\, love & happiness   \nJohnny \n  \n  \n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-poetry-corner-8-8-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210805 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210819 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210806T205130Z LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T124300Z UID:2300-1628121600-1629331199@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 8/5/21 DESCRIPTION:  \n  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nAugust 5\, 2021 \n  \nTHE THREE QUESTIONS \n  \nIt once occurred to a certain king that if he always knew the right time to begin everything; if he knew who were the right people to listen to\, and whom to avoid; and\, above all\, if he always knew what was the most important thing to do\, he would never fail in anything he might undertake. \n  \nAnd this thought having occurred to him\, he had it proclaimed throughout his kingdom that he would give a great reward to anyone who would teach him what was the right time for every action\, and who were the most necessary people\, and how he might know what was the most important thing to do. \n  \nAnd learned men came to the king\, but they all answered his questions differently. \n  \nIn reply to the first question\, some said that to know the right time for every action\, one must draw up in advance a table of days\, months\, and years\, and must live strictly according to it. Only thus\, said they\, could everything be done at its proper time. Others declared that it was impossible to decide beforehand the right time for every action\, but that\, not letting oneself be absorbed in idle pastimes\, one should always attend to all that was going on\, and then do what was most needful. Others\, again\, said that however attentive the king might be to what was going on\, it was impossible for one man to decide correctly the right time for every action\, but that he should have a council of wise men who would help him to fix the proper time for everything. \n  \nBut then again others said there were some things which could not wait to be laid before a council\, but about which one had at once to decide whether to undertake them or not. But in order to decide that\, one must know beforehand what was going to happen. It is only magicians who know that; and\, therefore\, in order to know the right time for every action\, one must consult magicians. \n  \nEqually various were the answers to the second question. Some said the people the king most needed were his councilors; others\, the priests; others\, the doctors; while some said the warriors were the most necessary. \n  \nTo the third question\, as to what was the most important occupation\, some replied that the most important thing in the world was science. Others said it was skill in warfare; and others\, again\, that it was religious worship. \n  \nAll the answers being different\, the king agreed with none of them\, and gave the reward to none. But still wishing to find the right answers to his questions\, he decided to consult a hermit\, widely renowned for his wisdom. \n  \nThe hermit lived in a wood which he never quitted\, and he received none but common folk. So the king put on simple clothes and\, before reaching the hermit’s cell\, dismounted from his horse. Leaving his bodyguard behind\, he went on alone. \n  \nWhen the king approached\, the hermit was digging the ground in front of his hut. Seeing the king\, he greeted him and went on digging. The hermit was frail and weak\, and each time he stuck his spade into the ground and turned a little earth\, he breathed heavily. \n  \nThe king went up to him and said: “I have come to you\, wise hermit\, to ask you to answer three questions: How can I learn to do the right thing at the right time? Who are the people I most need\, and to whom should I\, therefore\, pay more attention than to the rest? And\, what affairs are the most important and need my first attention?” \n  \nThe hermit listened to the king\, but answered nothing. He just spat on his hand and recommenced digging. \n  \n“You are tired\,” said the king\, “let me take the spade and work awhile for you.” \n  \n“Thanks!” said the hermit\, and\, giving the spade to the king\, he sat down on the ground. \n  \nWhen he had dug two beds\, the king stopped and repeated his questions. The hermit again gave no answer\, but rose\, stretched out his hand for the spade\, and said: \n  \n“Now rest awhile – and let me work a bit.” \n  \nBut the king did not give him the spade\, and continued to dig. One hour passed\, and another. The sun began to sink behind the trees\, and the king at last stuck the spade into the ground\, and said: \n  \n“I came to you\, wise man\, for an answer to my questions. If you can give me none\, tell me so\, and I will return home.” \n  \n“Here comes someone running\,” said the hermit. “Let us see who it is.” \n  \nThe king turned round and saw a bearded man come running out of the wood. The man held his hands pressed against his stomach\, and blood was flowing from under them. When he reached the king\, he fell fainting on the ground\, moaning feebly. The king and the hermit unfastened the man’s clothing. There was a large wound in his stomach. The king washed it as best he could\, and bandaged it with his handkerchief and with a towel the hermit had. But the blood would not stop flowing\, and the king again and again removed the bandage soaked with warm blood\, and washed and re-bandaged the wound. When at last the blood ceased flowing\, the man revived and asked for something to drink. The king brought fresh water and gave it to him. Meanwhile the sun had set\, and it had become cool. So the king\, with the hermit’s help\, carried the wounded man into the hut and laid him on the bed. Lying on the bed\, the man closed his eyes and was quiet; but the king was so tired from his walk and from the work he had done that he crouched down on the threshold\, and also fell asleep – so soundly that he slept all through the short summer night. \n  \nWhen he awoke in the morning\, it was long before he could remember where he was\, or who was the strange bearded man lying on the bed and gazing intently at him with shining eyes. \n  \n“Forgive me!” said the bearded man in a weak voice\, when he saw that the king was awake and was looking at him. \n  \n“I do not know you\, and have nothing to forgive you for\,” said the king. \n  \n“You do not know me\, but I know you. I am that enemy of yours who swore to revenge himself on you\, because you executed his brother and seized his property. I knew you had gone alone to see the hermit\, and I resolved to kill you on your way back. But the day passed and you did not return. So I came out from my ambush to find you\, and came upon your bodyguard\, and they recognized me\, and wounded me. I escaped from them\, but should have bled to death had you not dressed my wound. I wished to kill you\, and you have saved my life. Now\, if I live\, and if you wish it\, I will serve you as your most faithful slave\, and will bid my sons do the same. Forgive me!” \n  \nThe king was very glad to have made peace with his enemy so easily\, and to have gained him for a friend\, and he not only forgave him\, but said he would send his servants and his own physician to attend him\, and promised to restore his property. \n  \nHaving taken leave of the wounded man\, the king went out into the porch and looked around for the hermit. Before going away he wished once more to beg an answer to the questions he had put. The hermit was outside\, on his knees\, sowing seeds in the beds that had been dug the day before. \n  \nThe king approached him and said\, “For the last time\, I pray you to answer my questions\, wise man.” \n  \n“You have already been answered!” said the hermit\, still crouching on his thin legs\, and looking up at the king\, who stood before him. \n  \n“How answered? What do you mean?” asked the king. \n  \n“Do you not see?” replied the hermit. “If you had not pitied my weakness yesterday\, and had not dug these beds for me\, but had gone your way\, that man would have attacked you\, and you would have repented of not having stayed with me. So the most important time was when you were digging the beds; and I was the most important man; and to do me good was your most important business. Afterwards\, when that man ran to us\, the most important time was when you were attending to him\, for if you had not bound up his wounds he would have died without having made peace with you. So he was the most important man\, and what you did for him was your most important business. Remember then: there is only one time that is important – now! It is the most important time because it is the only time when we have any power. The most necessary person is the one with whom you are\, for no man knows whether he will ever have dealings with anyone else: and the most important affair is to do that person good\, because for that purpose alone was man sent into this life.” \n  \n—Leo Tolstoy (translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude) URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-8-5-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210725T130000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210725T150000 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210722T211808Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210722T213348Z UID:2291-1627218000-1627225200@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: What Are Your Favorite Documentary Films? DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nThis Sunday\, July 25th\, at 1 pm\, we’re going to go crazy\, break all the rules\, and talk about films–instead of books!!! WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE DOCUMENTARY FILMS? Here’s the link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/83135193074 \n  \nCinephiles: This is your chance! \nI hope to see you there! \n  \npeace\, love & happiness \n  \nJohnny URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-what-are-your-favorite-documentary-films/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210722 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210805 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210722T194118Z LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T124120Z UID:2285-1626912000-1628121599@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 7/22/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \nTHE ART OF HAPPINESS \n  \nJuly 22\, 2021 \n  \nThis is a TEDx talk by Slava Polunin:  \n  \nI was asked one day\, “Are you happy?” I needed to think\, to sit and reflect\, and I figured\, actually\, I’ve been happy for all my life\, without breaks\, just happiness from morning till night\, all day long\, without days off or holidays. Nothing but happiness. Why? How is that possible? How could that happen? I did not do anything for it\, I did not want anything for it. Just felt happy\, and that was it. So I started analyzing. For so many centuries\, mankind\, smart people with briefcases and ties\, have been thinking\, reckoning\, telling everybody to go here\, go there\, this way to happiness\, that way to happiness\, but they don’t succeed.  \n  \nSo I figured\, the smart have failed. And I thought\, we need to establish an alternative\, an International Fools Academy. I founded that Academy and appointed myself its irreplaceable president. So\, for some 20-30 years I’ve been the President of the World Fools Academy. Our members are the biggest fools\, idiots who are somehow always happy. There is just no way to change it; whatever you do\, they just remain happy\, there’s no way of beating that happiness out of them. Do not think that they are dimwits with no family\, no kids\, no problems\, no tragedies—they have everything like everyone else. But such a person enters a room and everything is lit up with sunlight\, they kind of radiate it\, making everybody drop whatever they’re doing and rush after happiness\, towards happiness. And it’s with those people I now create all kinds of organizations.  \n  \nI figured there is only one way: you have to create small\, tiny oases. I realized that I won’t change the world anyway\, so take just a tiny space\, three meters\, and in those three meters make sure that everything exists in harmony\, in happiness\, in joy—that was my dream. So I created first one theater\, then a second theater\, then a third one. Later some other organizations\, all different and very cute. And everywhere I strove to create just one thing—a harmony in a tiny space\, and then try to expand that harmony with all my might\, to push its walls as far as possible. Sometimes I succeed quite okay\, sometimes not so much\, but this formula—create harmony around you and then try to expand it as far as you can—it works perfectly. And so\, as I am always in the middle\, I’m always happy\, I’m in harmony\, always among my friends\, and always full of joy. \n  \nSo\, what are the signs of happiness? I’ll try to sound like a scientist now. (Laughter) We sat and thought for a long time: what are the signs of happiness? How do you recognize it? It turned out to be simple—whistling. As soon as you start whistling\, no doubt you’re happy. So\, the first sign of happiness is whistling\, the second is singing\, the third one is bouncing. So\, you walk…(Bounces across the stage) (Laughter) (Applause) Those are indisputable signs proven by centuries\, decades\, by thousands of people and by myself.  \n  \nNow\, how do you reach that happiness? There are probably as many different kinds of happiness as there are people. There are so many possibilities of happiness\, so many varieties. And it is hard to tell them apart: one is vibrant energy\, that’s happiness; another just sat down—and he’s zen\, happy already. Not everybody needs it all. Some people need some things\, so they have different ways to get there. My scheme is very simple: while you create\, you are happy. What does “create” mean? It means you’re getting closer to yourself. The act of creating is an ideal ignition key. Just switch on creativity\, and you’re already happy. My creativity scheme is simple: if people around me feel joy\, if they feel happy\, that’s when my happiness begins. So\, you start that engine\, they get in\, you join them\, and everything is fine. So\, only do the stuff you’re getting a kick out of. (Applause) It cannot be simpler: if you’re always doing what you get a kick out of\, it works like a charm; follow that rule\, and everything will be all right. Do it only together with those you want to hug. (Applause) Because everything lights up around them and near them. I collect those\, I have this collection of happy joyful people\, in one group\, in another group\, in the third one. I have no other. Don’t let cynics or whiners in. Period. A separate section for cynics\, another one for whiners\, and a separate one for the happy ones. (Laughter) I will tell you\, they will envy you and run over to your side. No need to teach anyone\, they will want it themselves.  \n  \nAlong the same lines\, at “Melnitsa” we have a week long immersion in happiness where the first thing is to transform yourself\, your hair\, which I don’t have\, of course\, but those who do\, transform it\, and I can transform my beard like that\, or put curls in it. Transform yourself\, change your clothes\, if you wore grey\, try on green\, and the other way around\, it’s a kick toward you expanding your world\, you start crawling out of your own self. First into your hair\, then into your suit\, then into the room\, into your friends\, then out into your village\, and into your city. It’s important\, once you understood what you are all about\, it’s important to fill as much space as possible with this. Kind of reveal yourself\, fulfill yourself.  \n  \nSo\, what is that creativity that makes everyone happy for some reason? For me\, there are about three or four main things. It’s a game: try and do everything you usually did seriously\, try to play at it. In fact\, it is quite an amazing thing! When I was signing a contract on Broadway for nine months\, (Laughter) it came to the point where I started freaking out\, taking medicine\, a doctor checked me up\, because I was panicking\, afraid that my favorite baby will get turned into some Broadway piece of crap. And then we realized: one more step and I’ll go nuts\, because everything I do I try to make it really perfect. That’s when I felt I couldn’t stand it any longer. So we realized it was time to play: one day we came in as punks\, next day we came in as those in ties\, the day after as somebody else\, and we negotiated while acting that way. And everything changed\, because it’s not me\, it’s him showing off. Everything became easy. If you apply this method of playful attitude toward life\, you distance yourself\, and life is there while you’re in a free fly and laughing at what happens\, and so on. Game is a great key for this story. \n  \nFantasy—they say\, “What a daydreamer!\,” so I thought\, where does creativity begin at all\, where do happiness and joy begin? All begins with fantasy\, not by thinking\, “Here’s life and here’s something weird\, some accompanying dreams\, fantasies\, and imagination\, hopes and so on\, all on the periphery\, while real life is here.” But in fact\, this is life\, and all that is something on its side\, it can never reach such a perfection. And your mission is to try to make this out of that. To try and make life as perfect as your fantasy. When you thought about something\, and it suddenly comes to life\, that miracle of such a joy and happiness cannot even be experienced any other way.  \n  \nWhen I was only trying to understand why I needed to perform\, why I’m out there\, what I’m doing there\, I realized that there is an expression “anima allegra\,” joyful soul. It might have come from the Greeks\, I think\, from somewhere there. Joyful soul. What is a joyful soul? That’s where we should remember about love. It is probably born out of falling in love with this world. That is\, if you’re in love with this world then the joy emerges\, because there’s a harmony: great person here and great person there\, and together you are a wonderful creature. Because things are tough when you’re not in love with the world. There might be some back doors\, but the straightest way is just to love the world.  \n  \nBut how can you love this world\, how can you get to love it at all? Only if you’re a child. Someone out there already said it\, looked like me with a different beard. But in order to love this world you need to remain a child. This is the best rule there is. What does it mean\, to be a child? What is it\, to be a child? (Looking at his note cards) Well\, it’s not written here. (Laughter) So\, what is it\, to be a child? Perhaps\, it is something like\, “Wow!” Yes\, definitely\, to be a child means to say every day: “Wow! Wow!” Because this is the definition\, this awe before this world through…(Child’s voice from the audience: “I’m a child!”)…Yay! (Slava laughs) (Applause) To be a child is to get surprised\, every day get surprised by everything. “What is this? Why is that? How is it here? I want it\, too!” And so\, in everything: to touch\, “Ah\, why\, what are you doing?” To get yourself into everything\, participate in everything\, in spite of everything\, because this is what it is\, the state of “Wow!” I don’t know\, I love it when all that stops and this boost of life starts\, when you’re no longer reacting\, no longer controlling\, cannot comprehend anything\, just doing something not knowing why\, or what for\, and so on. Usually\, joy has no reason. The real joy has no reason\, it just occurs because life is good. That’s why it is here\, the main joy occurs in this place. All other joys help a little\, but the main joy occurs in here. \n  \nMarcel Marceau told me once—I learned from many: sometimes I went to Raikin\, sometimes to Marcel Marceau\, I used to attach myself to someone and hang there\, carrying bags—(Laughter) and he said\, “You need to learn only from the great.” I was like\, “Oh\, that’s very important\, what an important thought\, I need to act upon it\, whom else should I follow?” Now I understand that there’s no need to follow anyone. It turned out that our greatest teachers are our children. So\, I follow my granddaughters nonstop now. (Applause) How on earth do they manage to be happy and joyful all the time? A little bit (Makes frustration noises) and life’s awesome again. (Laughter) Really\, I’m studying\, trying to see how. Still remains a mystery to me. I’m following and recording them\, their actions\, trying to repeat everything but nothing works that way they can make it work. \n  \nThen\, the fools in our Academy have a lot of rules which we follow and which work very well. Do not write down a list of problems. What do you need them for? Why do you need such a list? Why do you need the news? Why do you need the TV? All of it is really unnecessary\, why on earth get interested in it? (Applause) Write down every tiny achievement\, the tiniest success\, write it all down\, underline\, make a total of everyday results. Accumulate the joyful and the beautiful. That’s why in our theater everything is very simple: a show ends\, I go backstage and everybody is like\, “Well?\,” because they all know that they won’t hear a single negative word from me. Try all you want\, I will go on\, “Again wonderful! I can’t believe you always manage to perform that well!” (Laughter) (Applause)  \n  \nTurn the mundane into festive and fantastic. Run—there is a word for it—away from a dull life into the middle of something… Never mind. In short\, don’t “dull-shit” your life. (Laughter) (Applause) Why is everybody in grey\, anyway? Put on some colors! And so turn every minute of your life into something colorful\, joyous\, awesome and amazing. I have it all separated in my library: here is all the comical stuff\, there is all the absurd\, fantastic. For me\, those always go together\, because the fantastic and the absurd both lead to the other side of the planet\, to the other side of life really—might not even be on Earth\, but somewhere in the universe. These two things give us some kind of a fantastic balance\, when clashing the joyous and the fantastic create such a vision of the world that makes you shiver\, gives you goosebumps. (Looks at his arm) “Again\, goosebumps!”  \n  \nSo\, fantastic\, festive\, and mundane—blah\, blah\, blah—Got it! There is this man in the history of theater\, Meyerhold\, who said\, “If you want to be there\, stretch the leg out there\, because in order to get there you need to have balance.” It is hard to find a more thorough person on earth. And it’s me. It is even harder to find a more careless person. And it’s also me. So\, I’m starting s huge project\, and in the middle of it\, “Ah!” (starts to walk offstage) because I already imagined how it’s going to end. And then there is thoroughness: until each little hair is not bent to one side\, until my show doesn’t smell with exactly the right color\, until all of it comes to a place\, I cannot fully enjoy the whole thing. So\, everything is produced out of these opposite things. You need to be a completely reckless and headless doofus\, and at the same time you need to methodically and thoroughly go through every millimeter of what you’re doing. Then forget about that altogether\, and it’ll flow out in an unexpected way. And if you don’t preserve that balance\, your whole beautiful thing will fall. Or that other very costly thing—it will also fall. That is\, those things can only work when you keep both sides at the same time in harmony. Once you shift a little\, “Let’s increase the ticket price\,”—ah\, (starts to fall sideways) or you shift like\, “Let’s don’t give a damn about that and just fly free.” (gestures falling from the sky) So\, a shift to either side….only balance on the edge\, on the edge. (walks a tightrope)  \n  \nI always said\, “Only do the impossible. Because all the rest will be done by others.” (Applause) It’s true. When you put a star at the very horizon\, and then crawl to it\, swim in mud\, and all the time you feel that beauty that shines upon you. So\, when you aspire to the impossible and it comes true in the end\, you understand\, that’s what you were doing all that for. Then there is no longer mud\, nor a deep river\, or whatever.  \n  \nAnd here goes the opposite: “But always value what you have.” So\, if you don’t plan to land in a mental institution\, or even worse than that\, there is only one way—balance again. Always aspire to the infinite\, and always love every moment of what you have. If you find yourself in a small room\, not even yours\, rented\, temporary\, it’s good that you have that place\, quiet\, warm\, where no one bothers you. It gets expanded—you get a garage—okay\, I’ll make a theater in a garage\, it has a cold draft\, no problem. It means you keep those two things balanced every time anyway\, and if you stop keeping that balance between the ideal and what you’ve got\, which is good fortune\, luck\, indeed\, what have you done to deserve it all? Just like that\, doofus\, you’ve got things people only dream about all their lives.  \n  \nFeet in the water: this is yet another great rule. Feet in the water. What does it mean? Every 12 years I need to change my occupation. It means that every 12 years I stop the train and say\, “Thanks. Bye!” And I see where I want to go next. For that you need to get your feet in the water\, sit for a month\, and figure out: what is it you seek most\, why do you want to do it\, what do you need it for\, whether you need it in the first place. Don’t you ever keep living on auto-pilot\, never. Fear the most automatic repetition of what you already saw\, know\, and have no interest in. Break free—but you can crash big time\, this is the biggest problem. Not everyone has the courage. Do you know where courage comes from? If you tried something a hundred times\, then you know how tough your courage is. So\, you need to try more\, the more you try\, the more you know\, whether it’s worth getting out of or better to endure. \n  \nHooooh!: the last one! (cue card) Create your life the way you create a piece of art. This is the only way to love it. Create your life the way you create a piece of art. Embrace this attitude toward your every step\, your every encounter\, toward every day of your life. \n  \nThank you. \n  \n(Translated from the Russian by Yulia Kallistratova) \n  \nHere’s a link to this talk: \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4LxwbPFLUHY \n  \nMay all beings be happy! URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-7-22-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210715 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210815 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210716T153424Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210716T153546Z UID:2277-1626307200-1628985599@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue 7/15/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \n July 15\, 2021 \n  \nRhyming With Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \n1 \nOnce upon a cloudy day \na wandering poet lost his way \na busy yard-sale he passed by \ndrew him back\, he wondered why \nBrowsing through a battered trunk \nhe found a book by a Buddhist monk \nThich Nhat Hanh was the writer’s name \ninterconnection\, his basic game \nthe young man skimmed in search of clues \na garden of thoughts\, so many to choose \nthe path being offered was simple but steep \nand spelling that name\, a Grand Canyon leap \nmost daunting of all was rhyming that name \nfor a poet\, perhaps\, the ultimate shame \nsuddenly hungry and ready to roam \nhe put down the book and started for home \nWhen he got to the sidewalk the poet could tell \nhis sense of direction was not doing well \nthe sun was now setting\, the clouds darker gray \nit was not a good time to be losing his way \na man from the yard sale saw his distress \nand showed him a bus that would pass his address \nslumped in a seat as the bus took him home \nhe feared he might never again write a poem \nthen he thought of the book that he found in the trunk \nand wished he had spent more time with the monk \nThat night the poet fell into a dream \nthe moon deep blue\, the sky rich cream \na brindle cat\, in a bare black oak \nwas playing a fiddle with a lively stroke \nin a dark red vest and odd shaped hat \nhe swayed as he fiddled on the limb where he sat \nabove the tree\, in the cream colored sky \napproaching the moon\, was a cow who could fly \nA gasp escaped from the poet’s throat \nthe music stopped on a jagged note \nthe soaring bovine paused mid-air \nthe fiddling cat conjured a glare \n  \n2 \nWhat is your problem\, poetry man? \nDid something happen that’s not in your plan’? \nAs the poet described his rhyming confusion \nThe cat cut in with a crisp conclusion \nYou can’t find a rhyme for Thich Nhat Hanh? \nPoetry man\, you’re putting me on \nBy now the cow had cleared the moon \nand sang a sympathetic tune \nEasy\, cat\, he’s flesh and bone \nhe thinks\, in life\, he’s all alone \nwith broken compass and hobbled rhyme \nhis sails are empty on the sea of time \nThe cat tipped back his pork pie hat \nwith stingy brim and crown so flat \nOf course you’re right\, dear nimble cow \nhe’s everywhere but here and now \nrhyme adds power to a tale \nlike the gust of wind that fills a sail \nand rhymes add balance but aren’t essential \nto celebrate this world’s potential \nThich Nhat Hanh has an open vision \nhe honors the world’s unseen precision \nfor example\, in a sheet of paper \nhe sees a cloud of water vapor \nwithout rain there’d be no trees \nno trees\, no paper\, if you please \nAs the cow was gliding back to earth \nthe poet admired her supple girth \nshe wasn’t slender\, nor even trim \nbut she moved with ease and bovine vim \nher coat light brown\, with islands white \nthe streak on her forehead\, a comet in flight \ntouching down near the big black oak \nshe flicked her tail and again she spoke \nThat sheet of paper is a fine example \nof endless connections we might sample \nlook more closely and straightaway \nyou’ll see the sunshine of the day \n  \n3 \nwith no sunshine\, we all know\, \nthere’s no way a tree can grow \nso in this simple paper sheet \nrain and sun and tree all meet \nThe cat chimed in so calm and cool \nlike he was sunning by a pool \nAs we savor these connections \nwe open out in all directions \nand though the parts may seem diverse: \nthe earth\, the stars\, the universe \neverything that we perceive \nis in the universal weave \nLike a water lily in the sun \nglowing\, growing\, we are one \nThe poet smiled\, for he could see \nthat lily floating full and free \nhe took a breath\, he heard a cough \nhis darned alarm was going off \nHe hit the snooze and tried to think \nhis brain a frozen skating rink \ngone the guiding conversation \noozing back\, the deep frustration \nno words of cat or even cow \nto keep him in the here and now \nand still no rhyme for Thich Nhat Hanh \nhow could a poet carry on? \nBut . . . something has been gently changed \nhis rhyming pathway rearranged \nthe porkpie cat and comet cow  \nhave clarified his course somehow \nand though they live inside a dream \nthe gifts they offer flow downstream \nwith new connections comes a dawn \nrevealing rhymes with Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \n—Nick Eldredge\, 2020 \nnickeld109@gmail.com \n* \n  \nHere are some excerpts from Michel’s meditation journal. The numbers refer to meditations in Thich Nhat Hanh’s book\, Your True Home: \n  \nJune 14\, 2021  #143  Everyone Smiles \n  \nIt’s a lovely sentiment\, one I hope can be true. It’s a Butterfly Effect moment: “Smile and the whole world smiles with you.” Or\, so it’s been said. There are times when smiling is just damn hard to do. Or\, I just don’t wanna do it! But\, a truth is that if I smile—shake myself up a little and struggle through my pain\, to smile from my toes—others will smile back \, genuinely happy to be see and be seen. We can alter our minds’ courses\, as well as our emotional states. Smiling is one of the positive ways. So\, if you see someone smiling\, look at him or her—(wonder to yourself: what’s going on?)—and\, while making eye contact\, share in their smile. And\, when you find one who has no smile of his or her own\, again\, looking deeply at them\, smile your warmest\, most compassionate\, well-wishing smile. (It’s instinctive to smile back to a genuine smile.) It’s hard not to chortle and smile as I write these thoughts of smiling\, sharing smiles\, and just being happy. It’s a choice each of us is allowed to make. Doing so makes the world better\, even for a brief painful moment\, just for the price of one simple\, genuine\, loving\, compassionate smile shared\, intentionally or not\, with the world around. (It makes everyone look better!) \n* \n  \nJune 20\, 2021  #149  When Strong Emotions Arise  —  Happy Father’s Day! \n  \nI can really use this one; last night I was racked with deep grief as I have never felt grief or sadness before. I still haven’t a clue as to why. It just came over me as I began my evening prayer service\, and caused deep overwhelming sadness. It lasted for minutes. An eternity that might not end\, I thought. I knew I didn’t want to stop it\, but breathe through the experience. At the same time I found judgement about self-indulgence—how protracted grief can be self-indulgent. I don’t know\, but there it was—a self-induced indictment for “being” (acting) self-indulgent with an experience (and display?) of deep grief of unknown/undefined origin. \n  \nEventually\, a focus on the breath did calm the overwhelm. Even now I can sense this same sadness just below the surface of attention\, as if it rests just below my skin. I can’t bring it to surface just now\, yet I am aware of its presence as part of my being. I accept it as part of me and for reasons (deep past pain\, maybe?) unknown just now\, I don’t know its origin or cause. Maybe I’ll experience it again\, or not. When I do “feel” it again I can rest with it\, breathe and release a need to define or judge it. \n  \nIf I attempt to resist\, restrain\, or even fight back the tears\, I’ll only end up suffering a worse mess than if I allow the sensations to run their course through this body. I hope to have enough presence of mind to relax and observe what is coming up\, as I also focus on breathing. I can allow curiosity\, yet I’ll not want to push too hard or the critical self will arise and condemn\, adding to the grief and suffering\, instead of allowing it to be what it is\, and (eventually) to reveal its source and originating cause—it could be related to childhood traumas\, grief for lost innocence\, or time lost from not bonding with my father (who may not live to see my scheduled release date: he’s 85 now.) \n  \nWhat will matter is how I do/don’t allow myself and the body to experience these feelings\, sensations\, emotions when they arise again. If I fight\, it will only be more powerful the next time\, with the added sensations of the self-battle for restraint and any new emotions about that strong feeling arising. By fighting it\, instead of letting it be\, I see that I create a past-future tether which pulls at me to not be in the now. It prevents the strength and healing needed to allow this to arise again and for me to just be with myself as it happens\, allowing the senses to be part of my now—breathing “quietly\,” “calmly”—looking with compassionate curiosity at what came up\, not needing to define or judge\, but just to be. \n* \n  \nJune 21\, 2021  #148  Fearless Bodhisattvas \n  \nIt would be nice to be “fearless.” I guess once I transcend attachment and aversion I can be a help to others on their journey out of suffering. It’s next-level stuff\, as some may say. To me it seems important to keep this suffering of others in mind\, not to take it on\, but\, maybe\, to join them under their burden and in doing so lighten their suffering\, even for a moment\, so they can get a glimpse of Reality as it is. Maybe not. It could mean something totally different. \n* \n  \nJune 22\, 2021  #150  The Arhat \n  \nFinally! Recognition for doing “nothing.” I find it very easy\, even in here\, to get caught up with being busy\, doing stuff—it’s important\, mind you\, just ask and when I have the time I’ll let you know how busy I am with all of my importance. I find it sad that\, as a culture\, we value packing and cramming each and every moment of a day with stuff. Sure it’s important\, and we want to make the most of the few moments we have left. But\, wouldn’t it be nice to breathe\, relax and just enjoy each moment as it passes before us—instead of working and struggling to “do”—and make the most of a moment we can’t get back. And then\, suffering for not enjoying the moment more fully. I find it scary how familiar this sounds to me. \n  \n—Michel Deforge \n* \n  \n                       Song Sparrow \n                    Melospiza melodia \n  \nThicket hidden\, choir of one\, message invisible  \nsent to pierce my invisible spirit\, how do you  \nknow me so well to tune your secrets to my own? \n  \nDenizen of thorn and shadow\, you yet sing  \nsilver clear\, flit\, flurry\, and disappear\, \nleaving your psalms in me. \n  \nThis ministry\, gospel of the good by hint  \nand revelation\, begins in your breath to fill  \nthe sky\, unruly syllables of song salvation. \n  \nSparrow\, let our bargain be: You remind me  \nof the covenant between wild and human life\, \nand your thicket I will defend. \n* \n  \n    Midrash on a Sacred Encounter \n  \nWhen the little ones gathered at my feet \nthey couldn’t stop laughing every time \nI spoke a poem\, as if they were wild birds \nand I scattered seed for their singing and singing\, \nsinging back to my songs and stories\, and they  \nfed me questions as old as psalms: How long  \ndoes it take to write a poem… what’s the longest  \npoem… who taught you poems… what’s  \nthe oldest poem… what’s oldest  \ninside a poem…what is a poem  \nand what is not? \n  \nThen they laughed and clapped \nand I bowed and felt blessed \nand we went out into sunlight \nand all went forth to heal the world. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nTo love is the greatest thing in life; it is very important to talk about love\, to feel it\, to nourish it\, to treasure it\, otherwise it will be dissipated\, for the world is very brutal. If while you are young you don’t feel love\, if you don’t look with love at people\, at animals\, at flowers\, when you grow up you find that your life is empty; you will be very lonely\, and the dark shadows of fear will follow you always. But the moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth\, the delight\, the ecstasy of it\, you will discover that for you the world is transformed. \n  \nKatie Radditz sent this quote from J. Krishnamurti (1895-1986) \n* \n  \nThe state of wordlessness can be elusive. When we talk about it\, we use words. Try this baby meditation and see what happens. Imagine that you are a baby\, newly arrived on Planet Earth. You look around. You have no words for anything. Nothing you see has a name. You don’t know words like “meditation\,” “mindfulness\,” “breath\,” “thought\,” “present\,” or “moment.” You don’t know who you are. You have no name. You don’t have any regrets. You don’t have any plans for the future. You don’t have any problems. You don’t know what’s going on—but it’s extremely interesting! \n  \n(Typing this dialogue up at a coffee shop\, just now my the nonstop love-in baseball cap elicited this question from a guy: “Where is it?” To which I replied: “It’s here. It’s now. It’s everywhere and always.”) \n  \nIf you are a reader of the Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue\, please consider submitting something in time for the August issue\, which comes out on August 15th. August 17th is my 70th birthday. You could do it as  your birthday present to me. It would make me happy. \n  \n  \nMay all people be happy. \nMay we live in peace and love. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-7-15-21/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Unknown.jpeg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210711T150000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210711T170000 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210709T024543Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210709T024657Z UID:2266-1626015600-1626022800@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: Your Favorite 50 Books of the Last 50 Years DESCRIPTION:  \nWhat are your favorite 50 books of the past 50 years? Make a list\, and join the Zoom gathering on Sunday\, July 11th\, at 3 pm (PDT). Here’s the link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/83135193074 \n  \nSee you there! \n  \npeace & love \n  \nJohnny URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-your-favorite-50-books-of-the-last-50-years/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210708 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210722 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210708T153913Z LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T123947Z UID:2256-1625702400-1626911999@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 7/8/21 DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \n  \nDREAMS OF BETTER WORLDS \n  \nJuly 8\, 2021 \n  \nI once asked my friend Howard Thoresen what he thought the future would be like. “Like the present\,” he said. \n  \nIn the drawings above\, the artist Robert Crumb gives three versions of the future of the same street corner. In the first\, everything is more-or-less dead. The second is a high-tech future\, with flying cars. The third is a hippie ecotopian future. One of the things I think Howard was getting at is that all three of these “futures” exist right now. Somewhere there’s a terrible drought and the crops have died. Somewhere there’s a city where tall skyscrapers have skins of mirrored glass. And somewhere someone is riding her bike to the organic vegetable market. \n  \nIn movies and popular culture dystopian visions abound. Back in the Hippie Days\, before the Internet\, we had a Bible of Hope known as The Whole Earth Catalog. On the cover\, it had a picture of our planet as seen from space. \n  \nIn the Fifties\, in America\, World War Two was over and many people dreamed of raising a happy family—like the ones on TV—in their house in the suburbs\, with a two-car garage and an automatic washer and dryer. A company advertised: PROGRESS IS OUR MOST IMPORTANT PRODUCT. The idea was that things were better than they had ever been\, and they would just keep getting better and better. \n  \nAround 1970\, we got the Bad News. Ecologists told us that there were too many people on the planet for its “carrying capacity.” Plant and animal species were becoming extinct. Forests were being cut down\, topsoil was being exhausted and eroded\, fresh water sources were being depleted. Factories were poisoning the air\, the soil and the rivers. The climate was changing. The trajectory we were on\, they said\, was not taking us to a better place\, but to a worse one. \n  \nThis came as quite a shock. All our stories had told us that humanity was ascending from a state where life was “nasty\, brutish and short” to a more and more civilized\, more and more “modern” one\, where all our problems would be abolished by rational problem solving\, economic prosperity and technological progress. \n  \nOne of the thinkers featured in the Whole Earth Catalog was R. Buckminster Fuller\, the inventor of the geodesic dome\, and a “futurist.” He wrote a book called Utopia or Oblivion. These\, he said\, were our options. He said that he didn’t find the subject of oblivion very interesting\, so he spent his life trying to figure out how\, together\, we could “make the world work.” He said he had done the math\, and it was quite possible for everyone on this planet to have enough to eat and a place to live. We could educate all the children and provide health care for everyone. \n  \nIt makes you wonder: why aren’t we doing that? \n  \nWhen we go camping\, we’re supposed to leave the campsite better than we found it. Individually and collectively\, we would like to do that with our planet. One problem is that we can never give an adequate answer to the question: “What’s going on here?” There’s always too much going on at every moment. I don’t know what’s happening in my backyard right now. What are all the worms up to? And everything is always growing and changing—within me and around me. \n  \nAnother difficulty is that people have different ideas about what the most important problems are and about how things could be improved. Each of us has our own utopian dreams. \n  \nIn The Tempest\, while Gonzalo puts forward his ideas of what he would do if he was king of the island\, hecklers are busy finding all the flaws in his Big Idea: \n  \nGONZALO \nHad I plantation of this isle\, my lord\,– \nANTONIO \nHe’ld sow’t with nettle-seed. \nSEBASTIAN \nOr docks\, or mallows. \nGONZALO \nAnd were the king on’t\, what would I do? \nSEBASTIAN \n‘Scape being drunk for want of wine. \nGONZALO \nI’ the commonwealth I would by contraries \nExecute all things; for no kind of traffic \nWould I admit; no name of magistrate; \nLetters should not be known; riches\, poverty\, \nAnd use of service\, none; contract\, succession\, \nBourn\, bound of land\, tilth\, vineyard\, none; \nNo use of metal\, corn\, or wine\, or oil; \nNo occupation; all men idle\, all; \nAnd women too\, but innocent and pure; \nNo sovereignty;– \nSEBASTIAN \nYet he would be king on’t. \nANTONIO \nThe latter end of his commonwealth forgets the \nbeginning. \nGONZALO \nAll things in common nature should produce \nWithout sweat or endeavour: treason\, felony\, \nSword\, pike\, knife\, gun\, or need of any engine\, \nWould I not have; but nature should bring forth\, \nOf its own kind\, all foison\, all abundance\, \nTo feed my innocent people. \nSEBASTIAN \nNo marrying ‘mong his subjects? \nANTONIO \nNone\, man; all idle: whores and knaves. \nGONZALO \nI would with such perfection govern\, sir\, \nTo excel the golden age. \nSEBASTIAN \nGod save his majesty! \nANTONIO \nLong live Gonzalo! \n* \n  \nIn Joyce’s Ulysses\, Leopold Bloom fantasizes about being an eloquent politician: \n  \nBLOOM \n  \nI stand for the reform of municipal morals and the plain ten commandments. New worlds for old. Union of all\, jew\, moslem and gentile. Three acres and a cow for all children of nature. Saloon motor hearses. Compulsory manual labour for all. All parks open to the public day and night. Electric dishscrubbers. Tuberculosis\, lunacy\, war and mendicancy must now cease. General amnesty\, weekly carnival with masked licence\, bonuses for all\, esperanto the universal language with universal brotherhood. No more patriotism of barspongers and dropsical impostors. Free money\, free rent\, free love and a free lay church in a free lay state. \n  \nShakespeare and Joyce are having fun with our proclivity to imagine ourselves in charge of everyone and everything. \n  \nThe protagonist of Dostoevsky’s short story “Dream of a Ridiculous Man\,” is depressed. He wants to find the right day to commit suicide. He falls asleep in his chair and dreams that he travels through space to a planet just like Earth—except that everything there is perfect. Everyone there is happy. They love each other. They love the animals. They talk to the trees. In his dream\, the unfortunate narrator corrupts that world. Things get worse and worse\, until it resembles our own. When he wakes from the dream\, he wants to live! He feels that his mission in life is to convince everyone that we need to love each other. He is certain that if we could do that our world would become a Paradise. \n  \nParadises and utopias come in all shapes and sizes. A perfect moment is Paradise. When we write a poem or paint a picture\, we create a perfect little world. \n  \nThe philosopher Wittgenstein contrasted the idea of “the world” with the idea of “my world.” It’s fun to ponder this distinction. If you wanted to change the world for the better\, it would be quite hard to do because it’s so big and there are so many forces in play. But my world—the world as I experience it—changes from day to day. We create a new world from moment to moment. A happy person lives in a friendly world. An angry person lives in a world full of adversaries. We create our own Heaven. Or Hell. We can see the kind of world Marc Chagall lived in by looking at his paintings. \n  \nPeople have imagined that Paradise existed sometime long ago\, or will arrive at some time in the distant Future. Maybe after we die—if we’re good. Hesiod spoke of a long-ago Golden Age\, when people were happy\, lived long\, and didn’t have to work. In the Bible\, our first parents lived in a Garden until they were kicked out for disobedience. Karl Marx believed that some day a casteless\, classless society would be ushered in\, and all would be well. Paradise is always elsewhere. \n  \nIn contrast to this story\, Thich Nhat Hanh says: “The present moment is a wonderful moment.” I don’t have to wait for The End of War in the world\, in order to abolish the conflict within myself. I could live in Love right now. It’s not against the law. \n  \nOne of my favorite books is The Big Orange Splot by Daniel Pinkwater. In it\, one day a seagull drops a bucket of orange paint on the roof of Mr. Plumbean’s house. Instead of fixing the problem\, Mr. Plumbean painted his house to look like all his dreams.  \n  \nIt reminds me of the colorful\, wildly imaginative architecture of Gaudi and Hundertwasser.  \n  \nThe Mexican muralists Rivera\, Orozco and Siqueros painted walls in Mexico\, and inspired thousands of people to do likewise around the world. \n  \nThanks to YouTube\, we can tour the barn of the Bread & Puppet Theater in Glover\, Vermont \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OV232D962pE \n  \nor the home of the clown Slava Polunin in France \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yy9DqXzGEAI&t=12s \n  \nor accompany Dr. John “Slomo” Kitchin as he skates along the sidewalks of San Diego \n  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xn87-mcnoVc \n  \nMaybe Paradise is not far away. Maybe we’re in it right now. URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-7-8-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210627T130000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210627T150000 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210615T231258Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210626T172012Z UID:2232-1624798800-1624806000@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: PLAYS! DESCRIPTION:my first play\, circa 1956\, Columbia Falls\, Montana (JS) \n  \nBeloved Bibliophiles! \n  \nOn June 27th\, at 1 pm\, we will gather together on Zoom to talk about PLAYS!–reading them\, watching them\, performing them. The Zoom link is: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/83135193074 \n  \nHope to see you there! \n  \npeace\, love & katharsis   \nJohnny URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-plays/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/0-9-2.jpeg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210624 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210708 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210624T231228Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210624T231324Z UID:2245-1624492800-1625702399@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 6/24/21 DESCRIPTION:sidewalk message \n  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nJune 24\, 2021 \n  \nBe kind whenever possible. It is always possible. \n—Dalai Lama \n* \n  \nThe other day I was thinking about what I would say if asked to give a TED talk. Here’s what I wrote: \n  \nLove to faults is always blind\, \nAlways is to joy inclin’d\, \nLawless\, wing’d & unconfin’d\, \nAnd breaks all chains from every mind. \n  \nthat’s William Blake \n  \nI’d like to talk about love \nand so I shall \nnot the fascinating question of the relation between love and sex \nbut another kind of love: \nunconditional love for everyone and every thing \nis such a love possible? \nthat’s an open question \nbut surely it is possible to have this as an aspiration \nfor our love to grow and grow as we go along on our life journey \nit is good to begin with this axiom: \nwe are one human family \nthat means: \nall children are our children \nall children are our children \nevery child\, everywhere in the world \nif you accept this as true\, then war becomes impossible \nunthinkable \nfor whenever we drop a bomb on our so-called “enemies” we would at the same time murder some of our own children \nsurely we don’t want to do that \nit’s much more pleasant to have no enemies  \nthere’s no one to fear \nwe can live in love \nthe preamble to the UNESCO constitution says: \n“wars begin in the minds of men” \nso\, that’s where they must end\, too \nwe can end the wars within ourselves \nby doing our own inner work \nthe other kind of war—between nations and groups of people— \nends with acts of imagination\, informed by love \nby the knowledge that each person’s life is as limitless and precious as our own \nif we don’t imagine that we have enemies\, we don’t have enemies \nthis is true\, because we are one human family  \nand all children are our children \nwe have no enemies \nthere is no “other” \nthere is no scapegoat upon whom to project all our sins \nwe are not born in sin \n(every newborn baby proves Saint Augustine was wrong about that) \nwe are born in love \nwe grow in love \nthat’s why we came here \nto love and be loved \nthat’s why we came to this earth \nthat’s why we came to this room \nlove has no limit \nit has no beginning or end \nto quote the Bible: \nwho loves not\, knows not God \nfor God is love \nJesus enjoined us to love our neighbors as ourselves  \nand to love our enemies \nif you love your enemies\, they are no longer enemies \nthey are friends \nbrothers and sisters \n* \nour family is larger than the human family \nit includes every living being \nand rocks and rivers and clouds \nThich Nhat Hanh speaks of interbeing \nwe all inter-are \nthe trees provide oxygen for us to breathe \neach of our bodies is a host for millions of micro-organisms\, without which we couldn’t digest our food \nit’s wonderful! \nwhether or not you postulate a creator\, this world is amazing!  \nevery particle of creation is miraculous \neverywhere you look is another miracle \nour breath\, the circulation of our blood\, our brain\, the bees pollinating the fruit trees— \nthe Web of Life! \n* \nthe odds against any one of us being born are impossibly large— \nthe chance meeting of our parents\, the moment of conception\, the zillions of little swimmers— \nand yet here we are \nit is great good fortune \nhere we are with our precious human bodies and brains \nour thoughts\, our emotions\, our imaginings \nwe are in this well-lit room\, where the temperature is regulated for our comfort \nwe are all suitably clothed \nwell-fed \nwe are very fortunate \nmany people\, as we know\, are not so fortunate \neveryone should have access to clean and abundant drinking water \nno one should go to bed hungry \nno one should live in fear \nwe have a lot of work to do \ncompassion is the essential prerequisite \n* \nthe earth is hurting\, too \nwe have been relentlessly destroying the ecological health of our planet—especially since the advent of the Industrial Revolution \nwe have to learn\, or re-learn\, how to live on this earth in ways that are not so destructive \nthis\, too\, begins with love \nwe must love our Mother Earth \n* \nand as the poet Auden said: \n“we must love one another or die” \nof course you probably got the memo that we’re all going to die anyway \nwe are mortal beings \nthe question is: \nhow shall we live? \nmay I have the envelope please? \nand the answer to the question “How shall we live?” is… \nin Love \n  \nthank you \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nI shared it with Kim Stafford\, who sent me a poem and also a letter that his friend  Charles Busch had written to the mothers and fathers of Palestine and Israel: \n  \nFor the Bird        \n Singing before Dawn  \n  \nSome people presume to be hopeful \nwhen there is no evidence for hope\, \nto be happy when there is no cause. \nLet me say now\, I’m with them.  \n  \nIn deep darkness on a cold twig \nin a dangerous world\, one first \nlittle fluff lets out a peep\, a warble\, \na song—and in a little while\, behold:  \n  \nthe first glimmer comes\, then a glow \nfilters through the misty trees\, \nthen the bold sun rises\, then \neveryone starts bustling about.  \n  \nAnd that first crazy optimist\,  \ncan we forgive her for thinking\, dawn by dawn\,  \n“Hey\, I made that happen! \nAnd oh\, life is so fine.” \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nLetter to the Mothers and Fathers of Palestine and Israel\, \n  \nWe have read the names of the 69 children killed in the 11-day exchange of violence between your peoples. Though we live far away\, your grief reaches us\, for we too have daughters and sons we love and cannot imagine life without. \n  \nQusai al-Qawlaq (6 months)\, Ibrahim al-Rantisi (6 months)\, Muhammade-Zain al-Attar (9 months) \n  \nThe deaths of your children point to the dark truth of modern warfare: For every 1 combatant killed\, 9 civilians are killed\, the majority of them children. These numbers have been reported consistently for decades\, but are hard to hear. War has become the killing of children. \n  \nDain Ishkontana (2)\, Yazan al-Masri (2)\, Nagham Salha (2)\, Adam al-Qawlaq (3)\, Yahya Ishkontana (4) \n  \nWe at Fields of Peace\, a small nonprofit on the coast of Oregon\, have a Mission: To stop the killing of children in wars. Today\, we recommit to working for a lasting peace in your land by daring to propose a way to a new beginning. \n  \nBaraa al-Gharabli (5)\, Ido Avigal (5)\, Amira al-Attar (6)\, Butheina Obaid (6)\, Abdurrahman al-Hadidi (7) \n  \nWe know there have been countless failed attempts at peacemaking. And we know that there are seemingly intractable issues—borders\, occupation\, settlements\, refugees\, statehood. But we also know that the majority of peoples on both sides desperately want and demand peace. \n  \nZaid al-Qawlaq (8)\, Bilal Abu Hatab (9)\, Yara al-Qawlaq (9)\, Yahya al-Hadidi (10)\, Mira al-Ifranji (11) \n  \nTo begin anew\, a shared perspective is needed\, one that rises above the narratives on each side that justify violence. The perspective we propose is the view from the eyes of mothers and fathers. They see that to gain a whole world is not worth the killing of a single child. \n  \nAbdullah Jouda (12)\, Hala Rifi (13)\, Ahmad al-Hawajri (14)\, Muhammad Suleiman (15)\, Nadine Awad (16) \n  \nTo unite the mothers and fathers of Palestine and Israel into a force for peace\, a common commitment is needed. The commitment we propose is an obvious one: make A Promise to Our Children. It begins\, \n  \nI will not be a part of the killing \nof any child\, \nno matter how lofty the reason. \nThese words may seem slight given the history and walls that divide your land\, but words hold the power of creation. They set in motion the good that is waiting in us to be born. Nothing new begins without words. But they must be said out loud\, and someone must go first. \n  \nI will not be a part of the killing \nof any child\, \nno matter how lofty the reason. \nNot my neighbor’s child. \nNot my child. \nNot the enemy’s child. \nNot by bomb. Not by bullet. \nNot by looking the other way. \nI will be the power that is peace. \nSpoken\, these words will travel out\, be heard and repeated by other mothers and fathers\, by grandparents\, godparents\, by all who say the name of a child with love. They will serve notice to leaders: “Stop the killing of children in wars. Stop wars.” Spoken\, the words will also travel in\, reminding us of who we are\, giving us courage to stand and act. \n  \nThere is a way to a new beginning. It is simple and immediate: See with the eyes of mothers and fathers. Make A Promise to Our Children. It begins\, \n  \nI will not be a part of the killing \nof any child\, \nno matter how lofty the reason. \n  \nThank you\, \nFields of Peace \n  \nJune\, 2021 \nfieldsofpeace.org URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-6-24-21/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/0-18-2.jpeg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210615 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210715 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210615T224651Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210615T225414Z UID:2223-1623715200-1626307199@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue 6/15/21 DESCRIPTION:Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \nJune 15\, 2021 \n  \nYou are equally as beautiful as the universe. \n—tag on a Yogi Tea bag \n* \nIt is easy to see the conventional character of roles. For a man who is a father may also be a doctor and an artist\, as well as an employee and a brother. And it is obvious that even the sum total of these role labels will be far from supplying an adequate description of the man himself\, even though it may place him in certain general classifications. But the conventions which govern human identity are more subtle and much less obvious than these. We learn\, very thoroughly though far less explicitly\, to identify ourselves with an equally conventional view of “myself.” For the conventional “self” or “person” is composed mainly of a history consisting of selected memories\, and beginning from the moment of parturition. According to convention\, I am not simply what I am doing now. I am also what I have done\, and my conventionally edited version of my past is made to seem almost more the real “me” than what I am at this moment. For what I am seems so fleeting and intangible\, but what I was  is fixed and final. It is the firm basis for predictions of what I will be in the future\, and so it comes about that I am more closely identified with what no longer exists than with what actually is! \n  \n—Alan Watts\, from The Way of Zen\, p. 6 \n* \nEsoterica  \n  \nShall I write for the ages? Shall I compose  \nfor a scholar’s delectation? Shall footnotes \nbe the explication implement for my puzzles\,  \nmy utterance reeking of the lamp? Shall glossy  \nlyricism enamel my philosophies? Shall I play  \ncat and mouse\, merciless with a reader’s mind?  \nShall I strive to conceal my meaning so teachers \nmay tease their students for the great shazam?  \n  \nDo not hang my painting  in the parlor\,  \nsaid Van Gogh—I see it in the cabin of a boat \nstorm-tossed at sea\, as a help to frightened sailors. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nTakes a heap of meaning to make a body happy \n  \nThere have been complaints these days about meaninglessness. \n  \nThe spiritual end of our civilization seems to have broken down. We were originally set up to be monotheistic\, and not polytheistic. The gods were banished and all space taken by Jehovah on his golden throne. That worked through the Middle Ages\, but the Industrial Revolution put a spoke in the wheel. Almost unnoticed\, the gods started coming back. \n  \nThere are those who would turn Jehovah out and bring the gods back. Monotheism\, polytheism\, whatever. The important thing is to live a meaningful spiritual life. But a lot of Christians\, Muslims and Jews are invested in monotheism\, which is the idea that if there is one god there can’t be many. Logic won’t allow it. Others say that religion needs to be founded on paradox\, in which case\, there can be one god or many\, depending on your visionary angle. \n  \n—Charles Erickson \n* \n  \nlet’s pretend \n  \ninstead of pretending that we are afraid \nthat we must improve \nthat we have enemies \nthat the future will arrive someday \n  \nlet’s pretend everything is sacred \npretend this is Paradise \npretend every moment is precious \npretend we love everyone \n  \npretend our joy knows no bounds \npretend we are the whole wide world \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nYou can take any object whatsoever–a stick or a stone\, a dog or a child–draw a ring around it so that it is seen as separate from everything else\, and thus contemplate it in its mystery aspect–the aspect of the mystery of its being\, which is the mystery of all being–and it will have there and then become a proper object of worshipful regard. So\, any object can become an adequate base for meditation\, since the whole mystery of man and nature and of everything else is in any object that you want to regard. \n  \n—Joseph Campbell\, from Mythic Worlds\, Modern Words: On the Art of James Joyce\, p. 130 \n* \n  \nI hear and behold God in every object\, yet understand God not in the least\, \nNor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself. \n  \nWhy should I wish to see God better than this day? \nI see something of God each hour of the twenty-four\, and each moment then\, \nIn the faces of men and women I see God\, and in my own face in the glass\, \nI find letters from God dropt in the street\, and every one is signed by God’s name\, \nAnd I leave them where they are\, for I know that wheresoe’er I go\, \nOthers will punctually come for ever and ever. \n  \n—Walt Whitman\, from “Song of Myself” \n* \n  \nAnd this our life\, exempt from public haunt\,  \nFinds tongues in trees\, books in the running brooks\,  \nsermons in stones\, and good in every thing.  \nI would not change it. \n  \n—William Shakespeare\, from As You Like It\, Act II\, scene 1 \n* \n  \nHere are some excerpts from Michel’s meditation journal. The numbers refer to passages from the book Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh. (JS) \n  \nMay 3\, 2021  #113  The Beautiful Earth \n  \nThis one ended up not being about the entitled topic: certainly it does start there…and ends where we can help others find/touch peace more often in their lives\, realizing that the Earth and all it contains is already beautiful. I appreciate that Thây tells/reminds us that we are “able to”—“We can allow ourselves…” How often do we do this—allow ourselves to do anything for ourselves?; let alone\, walking mindfully or touching the Earth. Certainly\, it can be a greater challenge for those of us located in the box. But\, we can let our spirit soar outside this box\, our minds don’t have to be imprisoned along with our bodies. (As an aside: How many do you know and/or notice whose mind is as trapped as their body\, unable to see any beauty or kindness inside here?) Even walking on concrete we can touch the Earth. Even looking at concrete walls\, or at a sky above\, we can recognize the beauty of the Earth around us—as we once knew it\, or as we can see it now in faces of people\, or pictures\, or birds flying overhead. We can allow ourselves to live\, breathe\, see\, feel\, and even “be” outside the box. We only need to “see” it… \n* \n  \nMay 24\, 2021  #128  Peace is Contagious \n  \nI guess I have not experienced this truth yet. I see war as a result of greed\, hatred\, delusion: this is contagious\, in a way. Peace has certainly been a byproduct of meditation practice\, as has happiness with ease. I wonder if this is the intent of using “contagious.” \n  \nWouldn’t that be wonderful? If we could get many to meditate and peace were to spontaneously erupt. Then\, as a result of all the peaceful people and the contagious nature of peace\, that Peace broke out all over the world. What would that world look like? Would it be astonishing or amazing? Or\, would we all\, as active meditators\, know it was what we expected to occur? \n  \nPeace is the antithesis of greed\, hate\, and delusion (The Three Poisons). Meditation is part of the path for overcoming the self-told lies leading to these three poisons. So\, if this is known—(this is known\, isn’t it?)—then why don’t more people pursue peace this way: divesting of false narratives\, of grasping for what others have\, and the desire to erase the otherness? \n  \nIt all comes down to choices. We each make choices. Some will blind us to reality\, and others bring sharp relief. Each person gets to choose. When one discovers the path of peace\, he or she wants others to share in it—contagious. \n* \n  \nMay 31\, 2021  #133  Where the Buddhas Live \n  \n….We are all sleeping Buddhas. And\, we all share this planet together. We can all love ourselves\, in the now\, as it is\, as we really are\, seen in the “others” with whom we share the air we breathe\, the sunlight that warms our body\, on this planet provided for us to live. Where do the buddhas live? In you and in me and in each person we encounter. Can you see it? Can you feel this? \n  \nLove \nMichel Deforge \n* \n  \nOne of my favorite “children’s books” is Cosmic View: The Universe in 40 Jumps by Kees Boeke\, published by John Day\, 1957. It has long been out of print but some amazing soul has scanned the whole book to a PDF:  \n  \nhttp://www.arvindguptatoys.com/arvindgupta/cosmic-view.pdf \n  \nAnd in 1968 Canadian Broadcasting made a film based on it:  \n  \nhttps://letterboxd.com/film/cosmic-zoom/ \n  \nWe take size and our reactions to it almost by rote\, not seeing how very relative our slice or box of the universe is. And these two\, the book and film\, remind us of  that. In addition there is a great French movie\, Microcosmos\, about the life of insects in a field in France.  \n  \nhttps://www.imdb.com/title/tt0117040/ \n  \nTalk about different worlds and sizes! Which is just what I have done in this recent poem of mine\, that I am attaching. \n  \nlove\,  \nDeb \n  \nOpening the Hubble Galaxy Calendar \n  \nIn a summer field the camera inches closer\, the air’s hum becomes louder\, thicker and we watch small creatures move through wilds of grass and dirt\, beings so tiny our lordly bodies rarely see them\, human vision inattentive to antennas\, faceted eyes\, and carapace. How unimaginable these day-long worlds are to us and we to them\, our one hundred years beyond reach in the universe of insect life. \n  \nAnts\, worms\, and crickets\, dynasties of arachnid and lepidoptera rush to mind each morning as I open another color-enhanced photograph from the Hubble telescope\, each one bringing the unexpected into view: the Horse Head Nebula rearing as if a stallion\, a butterfly configuration composed of galaxy upon galaxy\, streams of gas and water\, glowing fire. What can we know of 100 million light-years\, these interstellar worlds? \n  \nO\, how like insects we are\, hands and legs\, thorax and mandibles all waving in the limitless dark. \n  \n—Deborah Buchanan \n* \n  \n#161 Think Globally \n  \n“…When we see things globally we have more wisdom and we feel much better We are not caught by small situations…” \n  \nI don’t remember when I first started doing this\, but I know it was many\, many decades ago\, during my first rocky marriage. When caught up with tormenting thoughts I would extricate myself by saying\, “Look at the big picture. Look at you\, now\, in this time. This is nothing; you are nothing. In the “Grand Scheme of Things” this doesn’t matter. You don’t matter (you do\, but you don’t). It is nothing. Things will change.” I would detach myself\, look at the situation from the outside\, like a scientist\, untethering myself from the suffocating emotional bind. I would think of centuries\, of eons\, eras\, of countries\, continents\, planets\, the universe — and all the inhabitants therein\, and how their lives could be monstrous compared to mine. \n  \nThen I would count up the joys in my life\, remembering what I had within and without me that others globally could not experience. I would get specific\, enumerate details—loving\, supportive parents and siblings; vegetables in my garden ready to pick; good physical (if not mental) health; art; adoring\, adorable dog; freedom from addictions (for now); the trees and mountains calling me… \n  \nIf nothing else\, the time it took me to go through this process would invariably diffuse the heretofore unbearable situation. \n  \nI am everything. I am nothing. \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nI love this poem: \n  \nI am one \nWho eats his breakfast \nGazing at morning glories \n  \n—Basho \n  \nhttps://matsuobashohaiku.home.blog/2019/04/12/gazing-at-morning-glories-eating-breakfast-basho/ \n  \nI am still contemplating the story Michel sent about fishing with a straight hook. Picturing this fisherman/fisherwoman sitting with companions who are intent on catching fish for dinner\, or sport.  \n  \nThe difference seems to me about letting go of expectations\, come what may\, but staying engaged with companions in the present moment. A surprise might come that feels magical\, but it isn’t about waiting for something better in the future. But the straight hook does make that fisherbeing unique amongst others. I am sending some quotes on this thought: \n  \nIf you always sit in expectation\, you’re not in the present moment. The present moment contains the whole of life.  \n—Thich Nhat Hanh   \n  \nLetting go is a painful part of life. But according to Buddhism\, we must let go of attachment and desires if we are to experience happiness. \nHowever\, letting go doesn’t mean you don’t care about anyone and anything. It actually means you can experience life and love fully and openly without clinging to it for your survival. \nAccording to Buddhism\, this is the only way to experience true freedom and happiness.  \nLetting go gives us freedom\, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If\, in our heart\, we still cling to anything—anger\, anxiety\, or possessions—we cannot be free. \n—Thich Nhat Hanh   \n  \nThe greatest loss of time is delay and expectation\, which depend upon the future. We let go of the present\, which we have in our power\, and look forward to that which depends upon chance\, and so relinquish a certainty for an uncertainty. \n—Seneca   \n  \nIf we deny our happiness\, resist our satisfaction\, we lessen the importance of their deprivation. We must risk delight….We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world….( injustice cannot be the only measure of our attention)….We must admit there will be music despite everything.      \n—Jack Gilbert \n  \nLet Go Of Expectations  \n  \n“If it weren’t for my mind\, my meditation would be excellent.” \n—Pema Chödrön     \n  \nShe continues:      \n  \nEvery meditation is different. Some of them will be peaceful throughout and you may feel a deep sense of joy. Other times your mind might be wild with thoughts of the day\, responsibilities you have yet to fulfill\, or emotions that percolate to the surface of your mind.  \n  \nHere are some steps you can take during your practice so that you avoid unnecessary turmoil and disappointment:  \n  \n\nAccept whatever shows up for you. If your mind is wild with thoughts\, simply let them arise without judgement. When you catch yourself being aware of these thoughts\, you can remind yourself to focus once again on your breath.\n\n\nSometimes you may experience emotions arising. Again\, allow them to move through you without judgement. Emotions need to move through us\, otherwise they can become stuck within our body and cause discomfort or even disease later in life. The release of that emotion could be the very thing that brings some relief and a quieter mind. \n\n\nRelease expectations of a specific outcome before you go in to a meditation. Some people will enter meditations with the hope that they will be able to manifest money\, relationships or health. High expectations of a specific outcome can lead to disappointments when they do not arise immediately. The less you expect of your meditation the easier you will find happiness. \n\n* \n  \nOK\, you are now ready to begin\, take a calm\, deep breath. \n—Katie Radditz URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-6-15-21/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Unknown.jpeg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210613T150000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20210613T170000 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210601T140213Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210611T163618Z UID:2208-1623596400-1623603600@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: BLOOMSDAY CELEBRATION!!! 6/13/21 DESCRIPTION:James Joyce (1882-1941) \n  \n  \nOn June 13th\, we will celebrate Bloomsday! On June 16th\, 1904 two fictional characters–Leopold Bloom and Stephen Dedalus–wandered the streets of Dublin\, Ireland\, in what many bibliophiles consider the greatest novel of the 20th Century\, James Joyce’s Ulysses. On Sunday\, June 13th\, at 3 pm (PDT) we will journey together through those same streets and see what adventures befall us. Here’s the Zoom link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/83135193074 \n  \n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-bloomsday-celebration-6-13-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210610 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210624 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210610T151739Z LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T123728Z UID:2214-1623283200-1624492799@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 6/10/21 DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nJune 10\, 2021 \n  \nThis is the Nobel Prize Lecture that Wisława Szymborska gave on December 7th\, 1996: \n  \nThe poet and the world \n  \nThey say the first sentence in any speech is always the hardest. Well\, that one’s behind me\, anyway. But I have a feeling that the sentences to come – the third\, the sixth\, the tenth\, and so on\, up to the final line – will be just as hard\, since I’m supposed to talk about poetry. I’ve said very little on the subject\, next to nothing\, in fact. And whenever I have said anything\, I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that I’m not very good at it. This is why my lecture will be rather short. All imperfection is easier to tolerate if served up in small doses. \n  \nContemporary poets are skeptical and suspicious even\, or perhaps especially\, about themselves. They publicly confess to being poets only reluctantly\, as if they were a little ashamed of it. But in our clamorous times it’s much easier to acknowledge your faults\, at least if they’re attractively packaged\, than to recognize your own merits\, since these are hidden deeper and you never quite believe in them yourself … When filling in questionnaires or chatting with strangers\, that is\, when they can’t avoid revealing their profession\, poets prefer to use the general term “writer” or replace “poet” with the name of whatever job they do in addition to writing. Bureaucrats and bus passengers respond with a touch of incredulity and alarm when they find out that they’re dealing with a poet. I suppose philosophers may meet with a similar reaction. Still\, they’re in a better position\, since as often as not they can embellish their calling with some kind of scholarly title. Professor of philosophy – now that sounds much more respectable. \n  \nBut there are no professors of poetry. This would mean\, after all\, that poetry is an occupation requiring specialized study\, regular examinations\, theoretical articles with bibliographies and footnotes attached\, and finally\, ceremoniously conferred diplomas. And this would mean\, in turn\, that it’s not enough to cover pages with even the most exquisite poems in order to become a poet. The crucial element is some slip of paper bearing an official stamp. Let us recall that the pride of Russian poetry\, the future Nobel Laureate Joseph Brodsky was once sentenced to internal exile precisely on such grounds. They called him “a parasite\,” because he lacked official certification granting him the right to be a poet … \n  \nSeveral years ago\, I had the honor and pleasure of meeting Brodsky in person. And I noticed that\, of all the poets I’ve known\, he was the only one who enjoyed calling himself a poet. He pronounced the word without inhibitions. \n  \nJust the opposite – he spoke it with defiant freedom. It seems to me that this must have been because he recalled the brutal humiliations he had experienced in his youth. \n  \nIn more fortunate countries\, where human dignity isn’t assaulted so readily\, poets yearn\, of course\, to be published\, read\, and understood\, but they do little\, if anything\, to set themselves above the common herd and the daily grind. And yet it wasn’t so long ago\, in this century’s first decades\, that poets strove to shock us with their extravagant dress and eccentric behavior. But all this was merely for the sake of public display. The moment always came when poets had to close the doors behind them\, strip off their mantles\, fripperies\, and other poetic paraphernalia\, and confront – silently\, patiently awaiting their own selves – the still white sheet of paper. For this is finally what really counts. \n  \nIt’s not accidental that film biographies of great scientists and artists are produced in droves. The more ambitious directors seek to reproduce convincingly the creative process that led to important scientific discoveries or the emergence of a masterpiece. And one can depict certain kinds of scientific labor with some success. Laboratories\, sundry instruments\, elaborate machinery brought to life: such scenes may hold the audience’s interest for a while. And those moments of uncertainty – will the experiment\, conducted for the thousandth time with some tiny modification\, finally yield the desired result? – can be quite dramatic. Films about painters can be spectacular\, as they go about recreating every stage of a famous painting’s evolution\, from the first penciled line to the final brush-stroke. Music swells in films about composers: the first bars of the melody that rings in the musician’s ears finally emerge as a mature work in symphonic form. Of course this is all quite naive and doesn’t explain the strange mental state popularly known as inspiration\, but at least there’s something to look at and listen to. \n  \nBut poets are the worst. Their work is hopelessly unphotogenic. Someone sits at a table or lies on a sofa while staring motionless at a wall or ceiling. Once in a while this person writes down seven lines only to cross out one of them fifteen minutes later\, and then another hour passes\, during which nothing happens … Who could stand to watch this kind of thing? \n  \nI’ve mentioned inspiration. Contemporary poets answer evasively when asked what it is\, and if it actually exists. It’s not that they’ve never known the blessing of this inner impulse. It’s just not easy to explain something to someone else that you don’t understand yourself. \n  \nWhen I’m asked about this on occasion\, I hedge the question too. But my answer is this: inspiration is not the exclusive privilege of poets or artists generally. There is\, has been\, and will always be a certain group of people whom inspiration visits. It’s made up of all those who’ve consciously chosen their calling and do their job with love and imagination. It may include doctors\, teachers\, gardeners – and I could list a hundred more professions. Their work becomes one continuous adventure as long as they manage to keep discovering new challenges in it. Difficulties and setbacks never quell their curiosity. A swarm of new questions emerges from every problem they solve. Whatever inspiration is\, it’s born from a continuous “I don’t know.” \n  \nThere aren’t many such people. Most of the earth’s inhabitants work to get by. They work because they have to. They didn’t pick this or that kind of job out of passion; the circumstances of their lives did the choosing for them. Loveless work\, boring work\, work valued only because others haven’t got even that much\, however loveless and boring – this is one of the harshest human miseries. And there’s no sign that coming centuries will produce any changes for the better as far as this goes. \n  \nAnd so\, though I may deny poets their monopoly on inspiration\, I still place them in a select group of Fortune’s darlings. \n  \nAt this point\, though\, certain doubts may arise in my audience. All sorts of torturers\, dictators\, fanatics\, and demagogues struggling for power by way of a few loudly shouted slogans also enjoy their jobs\, and they too perform their duties with inventive fervor. Well\, yes\, but they “know.” They know\, and whatever they know is enough for them once and for all. They don’t want to find out about anything else\, since that might diminish their arguments’ force. And any knowledge that doesn’t lead to new questions quickly dies out: it fails to maintain the temperature required for sustaining life. In the most extreme cases\, cases well known from ancient and modern history\, it even poses a lethal threat to society. \n  \nThis is why I value that little phrase “I don’t know” so highly. It’s small\, but it flies on mighty wings. It expands our lives to include the spaces within us as well as those outer expanses in which our tiny Earth hangs suspended. If Isaac Newton had never said to himself “I don’t know\,” the apples in his little orchard might have dropped to the ground like hailstones and at best he would have stooped to pick them up and gobble them with gusto. Had my compatriot Marie Sklodowska-Curie never said to herself “I don’t know”\, she probably would have wound up teaching chemistry at some private high school for young ladies from good families\, and would have ended her days performing this otherwise perfectly respectable job. But she kept on saying “I don’t know\,” and these words led her\, not just once but twice\, to Stockholm\, where restless\, questing spirits are occasionally rewarded with the Nobel Prize. \n  \nPoets\, if they’re genuine\, must also keep repeating “I don’t know.” Each poem marks an effort to answer this statement\, but as soon as the final period hits the page\, the poet begins to hesitate\, starts to realize that this particular answer was pure makeshift that’s absolutely inadequate to boot. So the poets keep on trying\, and sooner or later the consecutive results of their self-dissatisfaction are clipped together with a giant paperclip by literary historians and called their “oeuvre” … \n  \nI sometimes dream of situations that can’t possibly come true. I audaciously imagine\, for example\, that I get a chance to chat with the Ecclesiastes\, the author of that moving lament on the vanity of all human endeavors. I would bow very deeply before him\, because he is\, after all\, one of the greatest poets\, for me at least. That done\, I would grab his hand. “‘There’s nothing new under the sun’: that’s what you wrote\, Ecclesiastes. But you yourself were born new under the sun. And the poem you created is also new under the sun\, since no one wrote it down before you. And all your readers are also new under the sun\, since those who lived before you couldn’t read your poem. And that cypress that you’re sitting under hasn’t been growing since the dawn of time. It came into being by way of another cypress similar to yours\, but not exactly the same. And Ecclesiastes\, I’d also like to ask you what new thing under the sun you’re planning to work on now? A further supplement to the thoughts you’ve already expressed? Or maybe you’re tempted to contradict some of them now? In your earlier work you mentioned joy – so what if it’s fleeting? So maybe your new-under-the-sun poem will be about joy? Have you taken notes yet\, do you have drafts? I doubt you’ll say\, ‘I’ve written everything down\, I’ve got nothing left to add.’ There’s no poet in the world who can say this\, least of all a great poet like yourself.” \n  \nThe world – whatever we might think when terrified by its vastness and our own impotence\, or embittered by its indifference to individual suffering\, of people\, animals\, and perhaps even plants\, for why are we so sure that plants feel no pain; whatever we might think of its expanses pierced by the rays of stars surrounded by planets we’ve just begun to discover\, planets already dead? still dead? we just don’t know; whatever we might think of this measureless theater to which we’ve got reserved tickets\, but tickets whose lifespan is laughably short\, bounded as it is by two arbitrary dates; whatever else we might think of this world – it is astonishing. \n  \nBut “astonishing” is an epithet concealing a logical trap. We’re astonished\, after all\, by things that deviate from some well-known and universally acknowledged norm\, from an obviousness we’ve grown accustomed to. Now the point is\, there is no such obvious world. Our astonishment exists per se and isn’t based on comparison with something else. \n  \nGranted\, in daily speech\, where we don’t stop to consider every word\, we all use phrases like “the ordinary world\,” “ordinary life\,” “the ordinary course of events” … But in the language of poetry\, where every word is weighed\, nothing is usual or normal. Not a single stone and not a single cloud above it. Not a single day and not a single night after it. And above all\, not a single existence\, not anyone’s existence in this world. \n  \nIt looks like poets will always have their work cut out for them. \n  \n— Wisława Szymborska \nTranslated from Polish by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh. \n* \n  \nHere is one of her poems: \n  \nA Few Words On The Soul \n  \nWe have a soul at times. \nNo one’s got it non-stop\, \nfor keeps. \n  \nDay after day\, \nyear after year \nmay pass without it. \n  \nSometimes \nit will settle for awhile \nonly in childhood’s fears and raptures. \nSometimes only in astonishment \nthat we are old. \n  \nIt rarely lends a hand \nin uphill tasks\, \nlike moving furniture\, \nor lifting luggage\, \nor going miles in shoes that pinch. \n  \nIt usually steps out \nwhenever meat needs chopping \nor forms have to be filled. \n  \nFor every thousand conversations \nit participates in one\, \nif even that\, \nsince it prefers silence. \n  \nJust when our body goes from ache to pain\, \nit slips off-duty. \n  \nIt’s picky: \nit doesn’t like seeing us in crowds\, \nour hustling for a dubious advantage \nand creaky machinations make it sick. \n  \nJoy and sorrow \naren’t two different feelings for it. \nIt attends us \nonly when the two are joined. \n  \nWe can count on it \nwhen we’re sure of nothing \nand curious about everything. \n  \nAmong the material objects \nit favors clocks with pendulums \nand mirrors\, which keep on working \neven when no one is looking. \n  \nIt won’t say where it comes from \nor when it’s taking off again\, \nthough it’s clearly expecting such questions. \n  \nWe need it \nbut apparently \nit needs us \nfor some reason too. \n  \n— Wisława Szymborska \nTranslated from the Polish by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh. URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-6-10-21/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210530 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210613 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210518T150122Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210531T155219Z UID:2164-1622332800-1623542399@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: Annual Group Reading of Walt Whitman's "Song of "Myself" 5/30/21 DESCRIPTION:painting by Rick Bartow \n  \n  \nEach moment and whatever happens\, thrills me with joy. \n–Walt Whitman\, from “Song of Myself” \n  \nTo celebrate Walt’s 202nd birthday\, on Sunday\, May 30th we performed the sacred rite of reading Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself” together. Readers and Listeners who joined the gathering included: \n  \nMartha Ragland\, Brent Gregston\, Claire Stock\, Prabu Muruganantham\, Mary Real-Leflar\, Tad Leflar\, Jeffrey Sher\, Nancy Scharbach\, Marianne Pulfer\, Todd Oleson\, Katie Radditz\, Gail Lester\, Andy Larkin\, Scott Teitsworth\, Deborah Buchanan\, Carla Grant\, Ken Margolis\, Alan Benditt\, Carmen Bernier-Grand\, Nick Eldredge\, Jude Russell\, Will Hornyak and me. \n  \nThis poem changed my life. And continues to inspire me. In this interview I did a few years ago on Marfa Public Radio\, I elaborate on what the poem means to me. If you’re interested\, here’s a link to that interview: \n  \n https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0D6WmHaSE8&t=25s \n  \nAll truths wait in all things. \n  \n–Johnny URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-annual-group-reading-of-walt-whitmans-song-of-myself-5-30-21/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/IMG_0031-1-scaled.jpeg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20210516 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20210530 DTSTAMP:20260425T084816 CREATED:20210329T010236Z LAST-MODIFIED:20210518T174835Z UID:1954-1621123200-1622332799@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Bibliophiles Unanimous!: ALL THINGS GREEK 5/16/21 DESCRIPTION:Dionysus \n  \n\n  \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nStratis Panourios was our Hierophant \n  \n  \nThe Ethiops say that their gods are flat-nosed and black\, while the Thracians say that theirs have blue eyes and red hair. Yet if cattle or horses or lions had hands and could draw\, and could sculpt like men\, then the horses would draw their gods like horses\, and cattle like cattle; each would shape bodies of gods in the likeness of their own. \n  \n\n\n\n\n–Xenophanes (died: 475 B.C.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  \nOn Sunday\, May 16\, Stratis Panourios was our Special Guest. He is fluent it English\, but his friend Lena translated for him so that he could give the clearest expression to his thoughts. He talked about a production of Aeschylus’ play The Persians which he is directing at a prison in Athens. He emphasized the character of Xerxes\, who returns to Persia after leading the Persian army to a terrible defeat by the Greeks. Stratis said that men coming out of prison face a difficulty analogous to that of Xerxes\, and that when he talked with them about it\, he was very moved by their stories. \nWe had a lively Zoom gathering\, which included Keith Scales\, Curt Tofteland\, Kim Stafford\, Gail Lester\, Martha Ragland\, Todd Oleson\, Demetra Ariston\, Brent Gregston and Katie Radditz. \nIf you’d like to watch a video recording of the conversation\, let me know\, and I’ll email it to you. \nειρήνη &  αγάπη \nJohnny \n  \n  \n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-all-things-greek-4-11-21/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/0-8-2.jpeg END:VEVENT END:VCALENDAR